


One Month

by Anatui



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Birthday Party, Bisexual Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Bisexual Wallace | Willis, Cardiophilia, Coming In Pants, Cuddling & Snuggling, Day At The Beach, Demisexual Ichijouji Ken, Emotional Edging, Flirty Wallace | Willis, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Friends to Lovers, Gay Ichijouji Ken, Gay Panic, High School, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Jogress Bonds, M/M, Masturbation, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya Is a Bi Disaster, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, Odaiba Memorial Day, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers, Slow Burn, Somnophilia, Summer Vacation, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Dream, Yagami Hikari | Kari Kamiya Ships It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 37
Words: 100,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatui/pseuds/Anatui
Summary: "Actually, I have someone I want you to meet." He looked away quickly—part of him really didn't want to introduce Wallace to Ken, but he tried not to think about that too hard."Oh, did you finally get yourself a girlfriend?" Wallace paused, smirk widening. "A boyfriend?"Ignore that, ignore that, ignore that…"It's Ken—""So it is a boyfriend then." Wallace cocked his head to the side, eyes sparkling. "I have to say, Daisuke, I'm a little jealous."Daisuke's eyes narrowed. "He's my best friend, and I figured you should probably meet him as soon as possible since he's going to be around a lot.""Oooh." The blond's blue eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement, and Terriermon snickered in his arms. "It must be serious then."ORWallace visits Japan and stays with Daisuke for the longest month of Ken's life.(Daisuke & Ken are 16/17)
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Implied/Referenced Inoue Miyako | Yolei Inoue/Yagami Hikari | Kari Kamiya, Implied/Referenced Ishida Yamato | Matt Ishida/Yagami Taichi | Tai Kamiya, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya & Wallace | Willis, past Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi/Yagami Hikari | Kari Kamiya
Comments: 334
Kudos: 235
Collections: Daiken Discord Server





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by [Mariel Rodriguez's (@automeru) Digimon fanart featuring Wallace | Willis's visiting Japan](https://twitter.com/automeru/status/1223415911572475904?s=20).
> 
> Right now, I'm estimating this to be around 20 chapters, though that may change in the future. I plan to update every one to two weeks depending on my personal schedule.
> 
> Also! THIS IS MY 20TH DIGIMON FIC! Celebrations!
> 
> UPDATE 6/23/2020:  
> Hahahahahaha, I can't get over the fact that I thought this was going to be 20 chapters long. Right now, I'm estimating this will be around 40 chapters, but I wouldn't be surprised if it winds up being longer.
> 
> But the legit reason for this update...
> 
> The UST in this fic is seriously out of hand (in the best way, I promise), and the more I write, the more it toes the line with the ratings. So I finally decided to update the rating to Mature and then had to add the Underage warning (Daisuke and Ken are 16/17 in this fic, which is discussed more in the notes on the opening chapter below) just in case. Right now, I don't expect this to feature any actual smut, but I know that could change as I continue the fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during the summer vacation of their second year in high school, which makes Daisuke 16 since his birthday cannot be till after August 3rd. Therefore, Ken, Takeru, and Hikari are either 16 or 17, Miyako is 18 (since she's a Gemini), and Iori is 14 (for the same reason that Daisuke has to be 16). Wallace never had a specific age defined, but it's safe to say he's the same age as Daisuke and the other three.
> 
> Summer vacation in Japan typically falls between July 20th and August 31st, so this starts near the end of July and lasts until Wallace leaves mid to late August.

Today's restaurant was well-known for its poke bowls and sushi, and Daisuke had ordered half the menu before Ken was able to get a word in edgewise. Not that Ken had anything to complain about. This was typical for their weekly dinners.

Once a week, he and Daisuke would find some new restaurant around Tokyo—typically some hole-in-the-wall type, occasionally something a little on the nicer side, but two high school students didn't have much money to spend on lavish cuisine—and order at least half the menu to try literally everything. Daisuke always wound up befriending the manager or the head chef or the owner or whoever because no one orders half the menu for two people _and_ manages to eat it all.

Well, no one but Daisuke.

Daisuke who could talk animatedly for twenty minutes while they prepared everything he ordered, barely noticing that Ken hadn't said more than two sentences the whole time. Daisuke who would taste everything the server laid on their table, whose eyes would light up when he tasted something he particularly liked. Daisuke who would lean across the table, hold out pieces of his favorite foods, and insist Ken try it, no matter how uncomfortably intimate the gesture was.

Of course, it wasn't like Ken protested. He rather liked the way Daisuke always wanted to share his favorite things, to spread some of his sunshine and cheer.

"Did you know…?" Daisuke bounced his knee under the table in an excited rhythm, eyes wandering the restaurant. "The term _poke_ is Polynesian. It means to cut into sections."

Ken rested his elbow on the table, his chin in his palm, and smiled.

He could listen to Daisuke talk for hours, and he always spoke about food with particular care and affection. Daisuke didn't think he had a way with words, but he could make a bowl of instant ramen sound like ambrosia if he set his mind to it.

"Wha—?" A flush rose to Daisuke's cheeks, and he quickly averted his eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Ken released a soft laugh and took a sip of his water. "What did you order? I barely heard half of what you said you were talking so fast."

When Daisuke plucked up his glass of water, he downed nearly half the contents before managing to answer. "If you don't remember, you get to be surprised." He sent Ken a little smirk, then finished his water.

He rolled his eyes but decided to move on. "Well," he said, digging his phone out of his pocket, "I'm sure I'd be surprised anyway with how much you order every time."

Daisuke scowled. "Don't you like trying new things?"

"I like watching you try new things." His eyes darted over his screen, and a frown twisted his mouth downward. "I won't get home till late."

There was a flush on Daisuke's cheeks when he looked up, but the goggle boy moved on too. "I told you to stay the night, Ken. It'll just be easier—and then we get to spend more time together." Daisuke flashed him a huge, pleased grin.

Ken wanted to melt at that look.

He normally would.

But this summer, this weekend, there were changes in the air. Changes Ken knew he wasn't ready for.

"I don't…" He hesitated, eyes falling to the tabletop. "I don't want to impose."

"What?" The word came out sharp, confused. "What the hell does that mean, Ichijouji? You're never imposing when you sleep over. My parents don't mind, and I…" He bit his lip. "I want you there."

Despite the dire situation, Ken felt the heat rise to his cheeks. "Yes, well, I meant I don't want to impose _tomorrow_. You know, when you…"

Daisuke's eyes lit up in recognition. "No."

"Yes," he said more forcefully.

"It wouldn't be imposing to go to the airport with me. I mean, it's just Wallace." He crossed his arms with a scoff. "You're going to meet him eventually. He's going to be here for a whole month, and"—Daisuke's voice softened—"I can't go a whole month without seeing you."

Ken smiled.

Before he could say anything, two servers approached, carrying enormous trays of food, and once the dishes were spread across their table, Daisuke dug in without a second thought.

"Oh, Ken, Ken, try this," he cried after only one bite. He plucked up a piece with his chopsticks and held it across the table for him.

Normally, Ken hesitated here—the public intimacy always made him uncomfortable, even as it sent a wave of pleasure through him—but today, he wanted that intimacy more than anything else. He rose just enough to accept the food in his mouth and slowly chewed, contemplating the piece of ahi tuna covered in sauces.

Daisuke watched him expectantly, and he beamed the moment Ken nodded his approval. "You know," he said, grabbing a piece of futomaki sushi from another plate, "if it makes you uncomfortable, you could always head back to Tamachi when I take the train to Haneda. That way you could still spend the night." He flashed Ken a hopeful smile, then stuffed his mouth with the large piece of futomaki.

Ken took a long time to pull out his chopsticks and decide which food to try first, stalling for time before answering.

Apparently he waited too long.

Daisuke collapsed in his seat with a pleased moan, eyes fluttering closed.

He froze, chopsticks hovering over a traditional Hawaiian poke bowl.

"Mmmm, Ken, you _have_ to try this," he said once he'd swallowed, but his voice was still thick and raw. "I need you to taste this."

Ken wetted his lips before venturing to look at his best friend, trying to ignore the flush on his cheeks. "I don't know," he said, trying to keep his tone light, teasing. "If you're going to make that sound every time, I rather think you should eat the whole roll."

Daisuke's cheeks reddened, and he opened his mouth but floundered, unable to get any words out.

With a smug smile, Ken stretched across the table to grab one of the futomaki pieces and barely got his mouth around the large roll slice. The tastes melded together in his mouth in a succulent tango, but as much as he enjoyed fusion of flavors, he much preferred the way Daisuke's dilated eyes followed his every move.

When he swallowed, his tongue darted out to gather any remnants—and those eyes definitely followed _that_ movement—and Ken felt warmth spread through him. "You're right," he murmured, "it's quite good."

Daisuke nodded mutely.

Ken returned his attention to the Hawaiian poke bowl on his left. "I suppose," he said as he grabbed a couple pieces, "if it wouldn't be too inconvenient, I could spend the night tonight. Like you say, it would be easy to take a different train in the morning."

That got Daisuke's mouth working properly.

"Excellent!" He grinned. "I mean, you have to come by the apartment anyway to pick up Minomon. Might as well stay the night too, right?"

Ken smiled. "Yes, might as well."

*

A couple hours later, when Ken was curled up on the futon on Daisuke's bedroom floor, he couldn't help but remember, for the next month, he wouldn't be the one sleeping here. He wouldn't be the one sleeping on the futon, and he wouldn't be the one sleeping in Daisuke's bedroom.

Someone else—some blond American boy—would take his place.

His heart ached at the thought. The idea that Daisuke would replace him— _could_ replace him—made him irrationally upset.

A quick glance toward the bed, and Ken twisted onto his side to watch Daisuke slowly relax, an arm already slung over the edge, dangling toward the floor.

Hesitantly, Ken reached out to the hand not far away and traced his thumb over the knuckles.

Daisuke inhaled sharply, and the arm jerked, nearly hitting Ken in the face. "Hmm? What?" He pushed up on the mattress, then looked at Ken. "You still awake?" His voice was groggy, thick with sleep, though he hadn't been out long.

He nodded. "Yeah…"

Daisuke scooted closer to the edge of the bed and reached his hand out; Ken took it without hesitation. "What's holding you back? What's bothering you?"

Ken looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I just…I'm not good with new people," he said instead of what he wanted to say. "I'm nervous to meet him."

Rough fingers squeezed his hand. "Don't worry about that."

"How can I not? He's going to be here for a month."

"And a month isn't that long. Not really." Daisuke squeezed him again, drawing his attention again, and when their eyes met in the half-light, he said, "Ken, you're my best friend, and nothing in the world could change that. You know that, right?"

Ken smiled, but he could feel the sting of tears prick his eyes. "We won't get to spend much time together."

Daisuke practically growled. "Then you can just come spend the whole month here too. That way, we won't miss out on any time together."

A blush graced his cheeks, but Ken's eyes darted around the dark room. "I don't know if you've noticed this, Daisuke, but you only have one spare bed. Where would I sleep?"

He shrugged and, to Ken's utter surprise, yanked on his arm, dragging him halfway out of the futon. "You could always sleep here with me," he said, still pulling.

This time, Ken allowed himself to be pulled.

When Ken crawled under the covers beside him, trying not to disturb the two baby Digimon at the foot of the bed, it was obvious how much they'd grown since the last time they'd lain here together.

They faced each other, sharing the pillow, their breath pooling together in the space between, and nearly every centimeter of their bodies touched. Ken trembled, not knowing what to do with his hands, but Daisuke didn't hesitate before throwing his arm around Ken's waist and completely relaxing into the position.

"See?" he said, his voice low. "This is nice."

Ken licked his lips, uncertain, then finally adjusted his torso and shoulders so his arms were curled between them, a palm against Daisuke's chest, warm through the thin pajama shirt. "Yeah. Quite nice."

Daisuke's eyes fluttered shut, but he said, "What do you think, Ichijouji? Could you do this for an entire month?" He shifted slightly, and his arm flexed, drawing Ken somewhat closer.

His breath hitched, and he knew for certain that he couldn't. He couldn't put himself through being this close, touching this much—not if he wanted to keep his sanity. "I don't know." He silently cursed himself for the way the words fell from his lips, quivering, breathless, too high-pitched. "It's a little tight, don't you think?"

"Hmm…cozy."

And well, Ken couldn't exactly argue with that.

His skin was on fire at every touch point, and even when he closed his eyes, he felt himself burning up, his body set ablaze from the inside.

Daisuke gave one final yawn, then burrowed his face in the crook between Ken's head and chest, burying his face in the pillow.

Ken nearly gasped, body tensing as hot breath spanned across his bare neck, then he wrapped an arm around Daisuke's shoulders, closed his eyes, and tried his hardest to relax into the all-too-intimate embrace.

This was far more than he expected. More intimate, more affectionate, than they'd ever done in the past. They'd never cuddled like this, all snug and tight and warm and completely overwhelming his senses.

It was second nature to weave his fingers through the soft, cinnamon-brown hair, to trace patterns on his scalp and down his neck and back.

And if the contented sigh Daisuke released sent a thrill of pleasure down his spine, well, that was an unintentional side effect.

*

In the morning, Daisuke and Ken parted at the train station, Ken for his home in Tamachi, Minomon tight in his arms, and Daisuke for Haneda Airport.

The trip to the airport took about forty minutes, and Daisuke waited at the security exit for familiar blond hair. Not that he and Wallace had _really_ seen each other in six years, but they'd exchanged emails and even chatted on Skype over the years. And of course, he'd have Terriermon with him.

Which made him incredibly easy to spot from afar.

Daisuke waved his arms, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Wallace, over here!"

The blond, Terriermon snuggled in his arms, approached with a smirk, rolling his luggage behind him. "What, are you the only one to meet me? How disappointing." His Japanese was perfect as ever, perhaps even better than when they were kids since he used the language more often.

Daisuke scoffed and grabbed the luggage right from his hand. "As if I'd let the others pick you up. You're too much trouble, you know."

Wallace released a long laugh and allowed him to take the extended luggage handle. "You're really going to take my bag?"

"You're a guest, aren't you?" Daisuke didn't bother sending him another glance before marching off toward the monorail to get them back to Odaiba. "You coming or not?"

He scurried to catch up, but that didn't stop the smirk from spreading wide across his lips. "I didn't realize the service in Japan was so nice. You're so hospitable, Daisuke."

Daisuke shot him a scowl. "Maybe you could learn something."

Wallace laughed as he followed close behind, and once they were safely on the monorail, hands clutching the hand holds in the busy car, he caught Daisuke's attention again. "So when do I get to see Miyako, Hikari, and the others?"

"When you get to," Daisuke snapped, averting his eyes, belligerent. "You're staying with me. That means you're stuck with me all the time, you know."

"Hmm, but that's exactly what you've been looking forward to, isn't it?"

Irritation and, yes, embarrassment flushed his cheeks. "We were all talking about getting together this weekend, probably Friday. We've been doing movie nights the last couple Fridays." Daisuke paused, gathering enough courage to shoot Wallace a glare, even though his blush hadn't totally dissipated yet. "How do you feel about a movie night?"

"Sounds great." Wallace grinned. "And until then, you get me all to yourself."

Yeah, that blush wasn't going away any time soon.

"Actually, I have someone I want you to meet." He looked away quickly—part of him really didn't want to introduce Wallace to Ken, but he tried not to think about that too hard.

"Oh, did you finally get yourself a girlfriend?" Wallace paused, smirk widening. "A boyfriend?"

_Ignore that, ignore that, ignore that…_

"It's Ken—"

"So it is a boyfriend then." Wallace cocked his head to the side, eyes sparkling. "I have to say, Daisuke, I'm a little jealous."

Daisuke's eyes narrowed. "He's my best friend, and I figured you should probably meet him as soon as possible since he's going to be around a lot."

"Oooh." The blond's blue eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement, and Terriermon snickered in his arms. "It must be serious then."

Irritation reared its ugly head, and Daisuke wanted to snap that of course it was serious. Things had always been serious with Ken.

They'd been serious when Ken was the Digimon Kaiser, and they'd been serious when Daisuke first touched that Golden Digimental, and they'd been serious when Ken decided to help clean up the Digital World—and if they hadn't been serious before all that, they'd _definitely_ been serious when their very hearts bonded through Jogress evolution.

Not that Wallace would understand that.

"You play soccer?" he asked instead of continuing the argument. "Ken and I go to the park and play all the time."

Wallace hummed, his bright blue eyes considering him for a long moment. "I've kicked around a ball during gym class, but otherwise…" He shrugged, then leaned closer. "But maybe you can show me a few moves. You probably look pretty good in a uniform."

Heat rose to his cheeks, and Daisuke turned away. "Whatever."

Was Wallace flirting with him or just teasing him? He never could tell, even back when they were kids, and frankly, that was the last thing he needed right now. He had enough confusing emotions as it was, and he really didn't need another friend he couldn't quite sort out his feelings for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 03/21/2020: My good friend Fawn drew [some lovely fanart](https://twitter.com/fawnmons/status/1241371624894533635?s=20) of the second scene in this fic. It's so beautiful!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no explanation.
> 
> Except that Wallace is a little shit.
> 
> That is all.

His parents weren't home when Daisuke unlocked the door and rolled Wallace's luggage inside the apartment. He slipped off his shoes, and Wallace followed his example as his eyes wandered.

"It's not much," he said, gesturing down the hallway toward the main living area. "Come on."

He pointed out his parents' bedroom, then Jun's, and then his was just off the living room, but they paused first to point out the joined kitchen and living room and the bathroom. Wallace simply nodded as he took in the apartment, though Terriermon whispered snarky comments in his partner's ear—comments Daisuke specifically chose to ignore.

"Alright…" He finally turned the knob of his bedroom door and pushed inside the room, dragging the luggage behind him. "This is my room." He rolled the bag over toward one of the walls, out of the way, and pointed toward the closet. "We've got a futon to pull out at night and plenty of blankets and—"

"Oh?" Wallace's eyes circled the room. "You mean I'm not sharing the bed with you?"

Daisuke averted his gaze as the heat rose to his cheeks. "Of course not. Don't be stupid."

But Wallace moved toward the bed anyway and threw himself down on the mattress. A pleased sigh escaped his mouth as he relaxed, and Terriermon giggled and curled up at his side.

"Wha—?" Daisuke blinked and blinked, trying to focus on anything but how at ease Wallace looked on his bed. Because that definitely didn't help his blush or the pitch of his voice. "What are you doing?"

Wallace shifted, pushing up on his elbows to meet Daisuke's eyes, and his brow lifted, challenging. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

He swallowed. Hard.

But as comfortable as Wallace looked on his bed, Daisuke's mind quickly shifted and supplied him with the image from that morning. The image of Ken, half asleep and ridiculously content-looking, wrapped in his arms, when he woke up. Ken's silky black hair had been pushed to one side, a few strands matted and sticking to his forehead, and his blue-violet eyes, heavy with sleep, had taken a minute to focus on him.

As ridiculous as it sounded, Ken had never looked more beautiful than he did in his bed, in his arms.

Daisuke had been entranced. For the last couple years, there'd been moments where he'd thought about closing the distance between them and kissing Ken square on the mouth, but those moments were nothing compared to the resounding urge that had pulsed through his body at the sight of Ken in his arms.

He'd wanted to kiss Ken.

He'd wanted to bury his hands in that soft hair and kiss those pink lips and slip his tongue inside that hot mouth, and it didn't matter if Ken had morning breath or sleep in the corners of his eyes because that was just part of the package of waking up with Ken in his arms. That…well, that was definitely worth repeating.

" _Daisuke!_ "

He inhaled sharply and blinked, clearing his vision.

Wallace was sitting up now, concern etched in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay? You were totally out of it?"

Daisuke shook his head and looked away, a blush rising at the realization of where his thoughts had managed to wander despite his best efforts all morning—and last night—not to think about it, not to think about what sharing his bed with Ken meant.

"Sorry," he said slowly, voice thick with feeling. "Got distracted." He cleared his throat, and his face easily shifted into a smile. "Now, are you ready to do something? Or do you maybe wanna take a nap? How well did you sleep on the plane?"

Wallace shook his head with a laugh. "God, your brain is all over the place."

Daisuke laughed too—then frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

Instead of answering, Wallace slapped his knees and stood up. "How about something to eat? The food on the plane barely counts as a meal, and I could do with some energy to match"— he waved his fingers aimlessly in Daisuke's direction—" _all that_."

Face tightening into a scowl, Daisuke followed him out of the bedroom, leaving the door open in case the Digimon decided to follow them. "What d'you mean by _that_?"

Wallace reached the kitchen first, Daisuke on his heels, and he leaned against the counter and nodded toward the fridge. "Well, are you going to be a good host and feed me? Or will I have to find something to eat for myself?"

"I dunno, I think I might let you starve." Daisuke shot him a glare but opened the fridge nonetheless. He leaned over, sifting through the contents with a frown, and started grabbing a couple bottles of soda and a few small things to eat.

"Oh, I'm sure I could find _something_ to snack on," Wallace answered, a teasing lilt to his words. He hummed, a pleasant rumble deep in his throat and chest.

Daisuke bit his lip.

What in the world did that mean?

He shifted, standing up, clutching a haphazard load of items in his arms, and kicked the fridge door shut before turning to drop them on the counter beside Wallace. Half the items fell over, and he quickly righted them with a laugh, but when his eyes darted to meet Wallace's, he froze.

There was a contemplative look on his face, a heavy fog in his bright blue eyes that cleared when he blinked, but Daisuke didn't miss the way those blue eyes trailed up his body.

Was he…? Had he been looking…?

Okay.

No.

He was definitely overthinking this. Wallace was _not_ flirting with him, and he certainly hadn't been staring at his ass a moment ago. That would be ridiculous.

But when Daisuke's face flamed red at the very thought, Wallace shot him a victorious grin. "Well, Daisuke, aren't you going to feed me?"

*

They sat down to lunch in the living room, butts on the thick cushions, feet tucked under the short table there, and munched on the savory-sweet beef rice bowls he'd thrown together. Wallace struggled with the chopsticks at first, but he acclimated quickly, and Daisuke watched him eat with a curious frown.

He was so used to watching Ken eat, and Ken did everything with a dedicated and meticulous precision that made all his movements look smooth and delicate and lovely—far from Daisuke's typical, act-first-think-later rhythm.

But Wallace wasn't like either of them. He moved thoughtfully but not overly so, and he ate because he enjoyed the food, not because he was being polite. Wallace probably wouldn't bother to mind his manners when it was just the two of them, though he'd always been overly polite when talking to Daisuke's parents on the phone or over video chat.

"What're you staring at?" Wallace cocked an eyebrow, then donned a smirk. "Daisuke, are you—?"

He cleared his throat. "I was just going over the plan in my head."

Wallace's other eyebrow shot up too—as if he doubted Daisuke's truthfulness, which…well, that was fair.

But Daisuke plowed onward. "We can just relax today. I'm sure the flight took a lot out of you, but tomorrow, we're going to meet Ken at the park." He hesitated, mouth contorting into a frown. "He usually comes over and spends the night after that, but I dunno…"

"He scared of the big bad American?"

Daisuke glowered at him. "How could he be? Nothing about _you_ is scary."

Wallace let out a loud laugh that chimed like a series of pleasant bells, and he happily returned to his food.

"Ken's really shy," was the only explanation Daisuke felt comfortable giving. Anything more felt like a sort of betrayal.

"But not with you, right?"

The suggestive tone brought a deep heat to Daisuke's face, and he looked down, trying to hide his red cheeks. "Of course not with me. I'm his best friend."

Wallace hummed in amusement. "Right." He took a deep breath and set his chopsticks aside to devote his full attention to his next line of questions—his interrogation. "I'm going to be here for a month, so I assume he'll spend the night at some point, right? Do you have another spare bed?"

Goddammit, this wasn't helping.

He shook his head instead of opening his big fat mouth and saying more than he should.

"So," Wallace continued, that teasing lilt soaking into every aspect of his voice, "that means one of us would share with you, right?"

Daisuke shrugged.

"Well, then, Daisuke…" He leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the table. "Who would you rather take to bed with you?"

He swallowed, keeping his eyes downcast, refusing to give in to what must equate to certain torture. "And then, like I said before, we'll do a movie night Friday. I think it's Takeru's turn to host, so we'll meet everybody over there around six. We'll have to put together some food to take—everyone always brings something."

"This Ken will be there too, right?"

Daisuke bit his lip, though he wasn't sure why he hesitated. "Yeah, of course. Why?"

But Wallace plucked up his chopsticks again and continued to eat, and when he said, "So what are we going to do while we relax for the rest of the day?" the words were blase at best.

"Well," Daisuke began with a frown, "normally I—"

Down the hallway, the front door pushed open, and Daisuke listened to the bouncing footsteps and immediately scowled. Jun was the last person he wanted here, but it was unavoidable. She went to her room before even venturing far enough to notice them, and for a moment, Daisuke thought they were safe.

The moment didn't last.

She came out of her room, heading for the kitchen, while humming one of the latest songs Yamato's band released. She froze the moment she caught sight of them in the living room, her hand over her chest like she had a heart attack.

Daisuke could only hope.

"Oh, I forgot your little friend was getting here today, Daisuke," she said after a momentary recovery. "Willis, right?"

"I told you already," Daisuke snapped. "It's _Wallace_."

Jun grinned at him and continued into the kitchen to grab something from the fridge. "Jeez," she said as she pulled back with a Ramune soda, "you're awfully defensive there, Daisuke."

He crossed his arms over his chest with a scoff. "And you're awfully rude."

For his part, though, Wallace didn't look anything other than amused, and he continued to eat as if nothing were amiss.

Glass bottle in hand, Jun swept into the living room and stood over them with large curious eyes. She assessed Wallace without shame, her brown eyes perusing what little she could see of him in that position, and when she finished, she took a long drink and said, "He's cute. You didn't tell me he was cute."

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Jun…"

But whatever insult he was going to say dissipated when he caught sight of the smirk playing on Wallace's lips.

The blond cocked an eyebrow, and he leaned over the table. "Yeah, Daisuke, why didn't you talk about how cute I am?"

Daisuke pursed his lips. "Fuck off. Both of you."

Jun released a loud bout of laughter and leaned over, extending her hand. "I'm Jun," she said through her grin, and he shook her hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Wallace. I think you'll fit in here just fine."

He grinned back at her. "Thanks." And then, when they broke apart, he turned to Daisuke and stage-whispered, "Jeez, you didn't tell me you had such a cute sister."

Daisuke scoffed. "I hope you know I hate you."

Wallace's face broke into a grin again, which quickly twisted into a devious smirk. "Oh, does that mean I'm _not_ the one to share your bed when Ken sleeps over?" He shook his head, eyes falling shut in mock resignation. "I knew I'd be your second choice."

Jun snorted in the middle of taking a drink and nearly choked on her soda. He really wished she had.

Seriously.

He hated both of them.

"Oh, don't take it personally," she said, still catching her breath. "Ken will always be his first choice. He's head over heels for that genius."

Ah, there it was.

The moment Jun embarrassed him yet again.

"That's not true," Daisuke snapped, trying to regain control of the situation. "I'm not head over heels for anybody."

Neither Jun nor Wallace bothered to send a glance his way. They were already immersed in a deep conversation about his would-be crush on his best friend. None of which was even remotely true.

He wasn't the first person to share a bed with his best friend during a sleepover.

And he and Ken weren't the first pair of best friends who held hands.

Or shared food.

Or cuddled.

And dear god, Daisuke certainly wasn't the first person to think about kissing his best friend.

Right?

*

It was past his bedtime, but Ken couldn't stop staring at his phone. Since meeting Daisuke, he'd gotten so used to checking the device—or his D-Terminal—almost constantly. If they weren't together, Daisuke was constantly emailing or calling him, even if it was just to keep him updated on his day.

But Daisuke hadn't sent him a single word since he made it to the airport that morning. That was hours ago.

"Ken-chan?" The sheets rustled with movement. "Ken-chan, what's wrong?"

He sighed and dropped the phone onto the mattress beside him. "Haven't heard from Daisuke all day." He hugged his legs to his chest and buried his face between his knees. "He's been…too busy to talk to me, I guess."

"Oh, Ken-chan." Minomon pressed against his side, a small attempt to comfort him from a small Digimon. "He's had a long day. But I'm sure he was thinking about you."

Ken nodded as much as he could without lifting his head. "You're probably right." The words were muffled by his knees, and he shifted his chin slightly so he was sure Minomon could hear him. "And I know this Wallace boy is only staying for a month, but that's going to be a long time if we barely talk while he's here. I don't…I don't want to be forgotten."

"Daisuke would never forget you," Minomon insisted. "You're his partner _and_ his best friend. Just like I could never forget Chibimon. Or _you_. We're nakama."

He allowed his arm to fall to wrap around his partner. "Thanks, Minomon."

But it only made him feel marginally better.

The fact of the matter was, Daisuke _had_ forgotten him. _Already_ forgotten him. It hadn't even been one day, and Daisuke hadn't taken even a minute to contact him.

He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from crying, but he could feel his eyes sting even still.

Then, the bed vibrated.

When he opened his glistening eyes and blinked to clear his vision, Ken found the phone, facedown on the mattress, was glowing, the hint of light reflecting off the sheets beneath. He snatched the phone and opened the email.

Daisuke. It was Daisuke.

_God, you would not believe the day I had._

Ken chuckled.

Daisuke was melodramatic as always.

 _What happened?_ he shot back.

A jolt of pleasure spread through his body, warming him, when Daisuke's response was instantaneous.

_Jun happened. What else?_

Ken tried not to laugh, but it was so very typical. _How's Wallace settling in?_

That one took Daisuke a moment longer: _He's settled._ Then, not even a second later: _You're meeting us at the park in the morning, right? I can't wait to see you._

With a happy laugh, Ken collapsed back on his pillow, clutching the phone to his chest. _I can't wait to see you either,_ he sent back.

He couldn't wipe the smile off his face if he tried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the chapter in which Daisuke cannot stop watching boys stretch.

That morning was the first time in years Daisuke woke up to someone who wasn't Ken sleeping in his bedroom.

Instead of his pretty, dark-haired best friend, Wallace was curled up on the futon on the floor, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. He was certainly no Ken, but even Wallace looked soft and gentle and peaceful while asleep.

With a quiet sigh, Daisuke rolled onto his back and felt around for his phone—he'd fallen asleep emailing Ken, and the device was buried somewhere in his blankets. When he found it, there were two unopened emails, both from Ken:

_Minomon can't wait to meet Wallace's Digimon. You said it's a Terriermon, right?_

And after fifteen minutes of silence on his part…

_Goodnight, Daisuke. See you at nine._

It was almost eight now, but Daisuke didn't take much time to get ready. Especially when they were just going to play soccer. He and Ken always took rinse-offs after they got back to the apartment, and that's when he got properly ready for the day. No sense worrying about any of that when you were about to get covered in dirt and sweat.

Besides, he'd much rather lie in bed and spend his first moments emailing Ken.

 _Morning!_ he sent. _You on the train yet?_

Ken's response was prompt, which generally meant he was already ready. _How long do you think the train takes?_ the email said. _You're impatient._

Okay, fair. The train, which was Ken's preferred mode of transportation aside from the few times his dad was able to drive him, only took about twenty minutes, plus walking to and from the stations.

 _Yeah, yeah. I just can't wait to see you._ The message sent, but well, perhaps that was a bit too intimate. He quickly added another line: _Excited for you to meet Wallace._

No need to get weird.

This was hardly the time to get caught up in thinking about Ken, in thinking about the previous morning. Definitely not a good time to remember the way Ken felt wrapped up in his arms or how his chest constricted at waking up to that beautiful face.

Fuck.

Twenty-four hours, and he was still thinking about it. This was going to be a problem, wasn't it?

But when Ken took longer to respond, he lifted his phone again. _Can you stay the night? Want to spend the whole day with you._ And he pressed send before he chickened out.

For a whole minute, Daisuke watched his messages, waiting for a response, dreading the nature of that response.

Then, a soft grunt sounded from the floor, then the sound of movement.

Daisuke shifted onto his side and waited for Wallace to properly awaken, the phone held tight in one hand. "G'morning," he called, voice still quiet and strained from sleep.

Wallace stretched and yawned, a naked arm extending from within the recesses of the blankets, before turning his bright blue eyes on him. "Hmm, hey." He yawned again, then spent a good minute wiping at his eyes. "You're awfully awake already. What've you been doing?"

When Wallace shifted and pushed up into a sitting position, the blankets pooled on his lap, and Daisuke received the full reminder that Wallace had stripped off his shirt at bedtime the previous night. All he could do was stare.

Until the phone still clutched in his hand vibrated.

Daisuke tore his gaze away from Wallace's bare chest and gave his full attention to Ken, even if it was just his email.

 _I'm not sure,_ the message said. _It depends on how the day goes._

He frowned, but he couldn't ask for more than that. If for some reason the introduction to Wallace didn't go well, Ken would need the opportunity to emotionally back away and regroup. Cornering him into agreeing to spend the night wouldn't help anyone.

"Who're you talking to?"

When he glanced up, Wallace was standing now, facing the door, holding his arms behind his head to stretch his triceps, and Daisuke spent an embarrassingly long moment watching the muscles in his back ripple and flex. He'd said he didn't play soccer, but it was obvious Wallace spent a decent amount of time exercising.

"Daisuke?" He glanced back, but he didn't do anything more than cock an eyebrow when he caught his host staring.

"Uh…" Daisuke's eyes darted back to the phone, and he lit it up again. "Just checking on Ken. We're supposed to meet him at the park at nine. How long do you need to get ready?"

Wallace gave an affirmative hum, then his body stiffened. "Hey, where are Gummymon and V-mon?"

Daisuke immediately looked around the room.

Damn.

How had he not noticed their Digimon had left the room?

Finally, he shifted to the edge of the bed and slipped out from under the covers. "They're probably grabbing something to eat—something we should do too before we leave." He scratched behind his ear as he walked, moving around Wallace, who was busy pulling on a T-shirt, to reach the door.

Sure enough, the two Digimon were sitting at the table and eating some of the leftovers from dinner the previous night.

*

By the time they left the apartment, they were running late. Which, to be fair, Ken was probably expecting. Daisuke was always running late.

"Okay. I was definitely right."

To be fair, Wallace was the main reason they were running late this time. He couldn't eat his anpan in two bites—apparently the red bean flavor was an acquired taste—and he took forever to pull out clothes that might be suitable for getting a little exercise.

Plus, you know, the part where he wouldn't stop pausing in the middle of what he was doing to make some ambiguous comment that Daisuke was _still_ trying to decipher.

"Right about what?" Daisuke grumbled as he readjusted the strap of his duffel bag. "What are you going on about?"

Behind them, Terriermon had his ears spread out, catching the breeze so he could carry V-mon, just like when they were younger. Daisuke was _definitely_ too big to get carried around too now. Not that he had any plans for getting thrown into billboards today.

Wallace snickered and sent him a smug grin. "You _do_ look good in a uniform."

There it was again.

The feeling that Wallace was flirting with him.

Not that it made any sense. Especially when he wouldn't stop bringing up Miyako or Hikari and talking about how pretty they were.

Of course, that didn't stop Daisuke's face from turning a brilliant shade of scarlet.

"Shut up," he snapped. "These are just my practice clothes anyway. Not the actual uniform."

Wallace snickered. "Maybe you can put on your actual uniform sometime then. For me?"

And why did he have to say it like it was some sort of sexual thing? There was nothing sexual about soccer, dammit.

Daisuke very distinctly chose not to answer.

They turned the corner, and the park—more importantly, the pitch—was finally in view, and as predicted, Ken and Wormmon were already there. Wormmon sat in the shade of their usual tree on the edge of the pitch, curled up next to Ken's own duffel bag, and Ken…well, Ken was squatting nearby, one leg stretched out to the side, one elbow resting on his knee and the other hand extending to the ground.

Lips tight in a frown, Daisuke paused at the edge of the grass, and Wallace stumbled to a stop beside him.

Frankly, if _anyone_ could make soccer a sexual thing, it would be Ken. The way his body moved was all sleek and lithe and graceful, making it infinitely difficult to best him on the field. He was far too distracting.

"Shit."

Daisuke blinked away all thoughts of Ken's flexible form and turned his attention to Wallace. "Huh?"

The blond, though, didn't take his eyes off Ken and his fluid, smooth movements. " _That's_ your friend?" He cleared his throat, but he watched with an appreciative little smile. "You sure you're _allowed_ to be friends with someone that pretty?"

Irritation bubbled under his skin, and Daisuke jabbed his elbow into Wallace's upper arm. "Keep your head out of the gutter."

Wallace grunted at the attack and finally pulled eyes away to smirk at Daisuke. "Little defensive, aren't we?" He rubbed his arm, but any minor pain he felt didn't take away from his smug attitude. "Is your boyfriend not able to take care of himself?"

He cast a cautious glance toward Ken, a blush rising on his cheeks, and tried to play it cool. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course Ken can take care of himself. Doesn't mean he needs you ogling him."

Laughter rumbled in his throat, and Wallace watched Daisuke with endless amusement playing in his blue eyes. "Right, because I'm definitely the only one ogling."

Daisuke's eyebrows knitted together in indignation. "Stop it. Ken's my friend."

A beat passed.

Wallace cocked an eyebrow.

A flush spread across Daisuke's cheeks. "And I am not."

"You're not what?"

"I don't ogle him," he snapped.

But Wallace tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That would be a lot more convincing if you hadn't waited so long." He chuckled and nodded toward the tree where Wormmon was greeting V-mon and Terriermon—when the hell did they pass them? "Plus, you know, if you hadn't stopped to stare at his perky ass."

Ken had spotted them now. He did one final shoulder stretch, his eyes locked with Daisuke's, face stern, anxious, while waiting for them to approach.

"Come on." Daisuke smacked Wallace's stomach and motioned toward Ken's location at the edge of the pitch, and he started walking without waiting to make sure Wallace followed behind. "At least _pretend_ to be nice. He doesn't need you being weird and calling his ass perky."

Wallace followed at his heels.

"Ken!" When they met near the tree, Daisuke grinned and threw an arm over Ken's shoulders, tugging him to his side and spinning them to face the blond. "God, I can't believe you two are finally meeting!"

In his grip, Ken closed in on himself, standing close to draw on his strength—and Daisuke would willingly give him all his strength if it'd help—and cleared his throat. "Ah, you must be Wallace," he said in a smooth tone, careful, guarded. He extended his hand. "Ichijouji Ken."

Wallace took the proffered hand with a smooth motion no one had expected, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to the pale knuckles. "Nice to finally meet you, Ken," he said against that pale skin, and Ken flinched. He straightened with a smile, hand still grasping soft, slender fingers. "I've heard a lot about you, but Daisuke neglected to say how beautiful you are."

Ken shifted as he tugged his hand free, moving infinitesimally closer, tucking himself into Daisuke's protective embrace as well as he could considering how much taller he was. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

"Jeez, Wallace," Daisuke snapped, drawing attention away from his uncomfortable best friend. "Didn't I tell you to tone down the bullshit?"

The blond boy laughed. "No, I'm pretty sure you told me to keep my mind out of the gutter. I'm rather upset about that, you know. All I said was that your friend's pretty, and you automatically assumed I was thinking inappropriate things about him." Wallace sent him a little smirk. "I'm pretty sure that says more about you than me, Daisuke."

Suddenly flushed, overheated, and embarrassed, Daisuke released Ken's shoulders, but his friend didn't pull away. "That's not…I didn't mean—"

"Daisuke."

He stopped in his tracks with no more than his name in Ken's firm tone. "Hmm?"

Ken inclined his head toward the pitch. "We're wasting time, don't you think?"

Daisuke's eyes examined the green grass and the way the world glistened under the bright sun. It was already twenty-five degrees, and it was supposed to be quite hot. Any time they spent arguing ~~about whether Daisuke was thinking inappropriate things about his best friend~~ was time they weren't practicing soccer.

Their eyes met again, and Daisuke nodded. "Let's go."

Ken turned on his heel and led the way onto the pitch.

*

Daisuke was off his game.

It would be concerning in and of itself if Ken couldn't tell why.

Because the _why_ was reclining happily under the tree next to their bags and their Digimon, his baby blue eyes studying their every move.

Wallace's presence was making Daisuke nervous.

Making it incredibly easy for Ken to sweep his foot around Daisuke's legs and nudge the ball with the inside of his foot, taking it for himself. It didn't take long for him to spin the ball back toward the other goal and evade Daisuke's haphazard attempt to steal it back.

Even as he dribbled the ball down the field, Ken could hear Daisuke swear and chase after him. But he didn't stand a chance.

The problem was, Ken decided as he took quick but deliberate aim, he couldn't tell _why_ Wallace made Daisuke nervous.

With no defenders in the way, he opted for a simple pass, hitting the ball with the inside of his foot and sending it flying into the back of the net. Simple, yes, but very effective, especially when Daisuke was too distracted to keep up with him.

When he turned, taking deep breaths to calm his heart rate, Daisuke had stopped only a couple meters away, and he was panting, completely out of breath.

Ken raised an eyebrow. "Need a break?"

Daisuke nodded.

"You're never going to beat me at this rate," he said, a hand on his hip. "Your footwork is a mess today, Daisuke. Your feints are obvious. You nearly fell over when you were shielding the ball. And don't even get me started on that power shot. You lack control."

A heavy sigh fell from Daisuke's lips, and he slumped his shoulders. "Fuck. I know."

Ken's eyes darted toward the tree, where their audience was watching closely. "Why does he make you nervous?"

"It's not him, it's just…" Daisuke cast a hesitant glance toward Wallace, pursing his lips. "It's the things he says and the way he says them and sometimes the look in his eyes."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. He might've laughed, but the situation definitely wasn't funny. "What about them?"

Daisuke bit his lip, and his already pink cheeks turned a brighter hue. "It's not a big deal." Yet, his voice was pitched decidedly higher than a moment ago.

Ken pursed his lips and let his gaze fall to the grass at their feet. The sigh he released was one of resignation. "I hate it when you keep things from me," he murmured. "You're supposed to trust me."

"I do!"

His eyes jolted up when Daisuke stumbled to a stop half a meter away. "Then why are you keeping secrets?"

Daisuke groaned, and his hand darted out to Ken's shoulder, like he was scared Ken would try to walk away—and well, Ken couldn't blame him; it wouldn't be the first time. "Look," he said, his voice quiet but determined, "Wallace enjoys teasing and joking around. But sometimes, it's hard to tell whether he's joking or actually being serious."

"Like what he said earlier?" Ken's voice had fallen to a whisper, like it was some sort of secret. "When he called me beautiful?"

He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"You don't think I'm beautiful?" Ken didn't anticipate how much his own nerves showed in that question.

Daisuke's hand dropped from his shoulder, but he remained close. "Come on, Ken, you know you're gorgeous. _Everyone_ thinks so." The blush that spread over his face was strong enough it even tinged his ears. "Me too."

A soft smile spread across his features, heat rose to his cheeks, and pleasure bloomed in his chest. "Oh."

When Daisuke grabbed his hand, his heart went into overdrive.

Then, Daisuke dragged him back toward the tree, grinning again, and called out, "Hey, Wallace! It's your turn."

The blond looked up with curious eyes. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Daisuke dropped his hand when they came to a stop at the edge of the pitch, and his focus was now entirely on Wallace. "Get your ass up. I want to see you kick a ball around."

Ken swallowed down the sudden irritation that bubbled up.

But Wallace snorted. "What, you think _you're_ going to show me some moves?"

"Of course!"

"Ken's been running circles around you out there, but _you_ want to show me how to play?" But he still rose to his feet.

Daisuke scowled. "Hey now—"

"Nah, I want Ken to show me." He brushed his hands off on his gym shorts and did a quick stretch to straighten his back. "He's obviously the superior player."

Ken stood frozen, a step behind Daisuke—who didn't look irritated anymore so much as suspicious.

Wallace stepped forward, his eyes glued to Ken. "I want him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely responses to this fic. I'm having such a fun time writing it. These boys are all le drama.

"Daisuke…"

On the pitch, Ken was showing Wallace a few simple moves—demonstrating how to dribble the ball down the field, showing him the easiest way to pass with the inside of his foot, giving him a few simple options for scoring.

Meanwhile, Daisuke was stuck under their chosen tree with the Digimon, anxiously watching how Ken would shy away if Wallace got too close.

Of course they said they didn't need him out there too, but he couldn't do anything from here. He couldn't deflect Wallace's ridiculous comments or stand between them to let Ken find solace in his presence. He couldn't be the buffer Ken needed right now.

"Daisuke!"

"Huh?" He snapped his head toward V-mon, who was staring at him with its head cocked. "What?"

The dragon Digimon jutted out its jaw. "Why do you look like you're about to throw up? Are you sick?"

Daisuke shook his head, his eyes already studying the movements on the pitch again. "No, I'm not sick." He pursed his lips as Ken took a tentative step back when Wallace moved closer to test out a different angle. "Ken's nervous."

Wormmon curled up by Daisuke's knee. "Ken-chan has been nervous about meeting your friend since you first mentioned he would visit," it admitted in a quiet voice. "He just doesn't want you to worry."

He frowned. "No, I mean _Wallace_ is making him—"

Wait.

"What do you mean he's been nervous since I told him Wallace was visiting?" When his eyes focused on Ken—all smooth, lithe movements and long, slender legs that were far stronger than they looked—he studied the way he continually avoided looking at Wallace despite their proximity. "He knows he's my best friend. I'd never replace him—and certainly not with _Wallace_ of all people."

Terriermon, lounging in the grass with its eyes closed, snorted out laughter. "Trust me, your friend isn't worried you'll replace him as your best friend."

Daisuke cast a curious glance toward the bunny Digimon. "Then what?"

The Digimon shifted and sent him a big smirk. "He's worried you want Wallace to kiss you."

A furious blush spread across Daisuke's cheeks, and he could only stare as his best friend and his pen pal interacted awkwardly on the field. "That's, that's not—why would he even think that? That's ridiculous, crazy, insane. I'd _never_ …"

But well, he couldn't exactly deny that the thought had crossed his mind, especially as they'd gotten older and Wallace had grown more and more playful in their repartee. Coy, really. He was hard to ignore. And it wasn't like he hadn't had a bit of a crush on Wallace when they'd first met.

Ken, though…

His relationship with Ken was on another level. They had bonded in too many ways to count—to the point they had literally heard each other's heartbeats, and really, what could be more remarkable than that? Although, perhaps, for that reason alone, the fact that Daisuke desperately wanted to kiss Ken was completely unremarkable. It seemed a natural conclusion more than anything else.

But Ken was his best friend above all else. And you don't go around kissing your best friend just because. That's how you fuck up your friendship.

And honestly, who _wouldn't_ want to kiss Ken? He was absolutely gorgeous, and you couldn't meet anyone sweeter or kinder in the whole world. There was no one better, and Ken deserved someone who loved him more than anything, who put him above all others, who worshipped him.

Not someone who could barely restrain their dumb teenage hormones.

Daisuke hugged his knees to his chest and forced himself to focus on the two boys on the pitch, but that really didn't help. Not when it meant watching Ken laying his hands on Wallace's leg to make an adjustment to his stance and instructing him to try the move again.

Wormmon scooted closer and nuzzled his leg. "Now you look nervous, Daisuke."

Then, V-mon was in his face. "Are your eyebrows supposed to do that?"

He shot his partner a scowl. "What's wrong with my eyebrows?"

V-mon prodded his forehead with a finger pad. "You have as many wrinkles as Iori's grandpa. And your eyebrows were touching in the middle. That can't be good, Daisuke. We should get you checked out."

Daisuke shoved him away. "Shut up."

Then, all of a sudden, Terriermon jumped on his head, ears spread out like wings, and cried, "Stop taking it easy on him, Ken! Show him how to really play!"

On the pitch, Ken and Wallace froze—Daisuke's jaw tightened when he realized Wallace had his fingers wrapped around Ken's wrist and they were standing far closer than necessary—and Ken took a step back, pulling out of his grasp.

They exchanged a few words, then Ken retrieved the ball, and they met at the center of the pitch.

They counted down together in lieu of a ref, and Ken took the ball before Wallace could move more than a centimeter. Ken didn't even dribble the ball halfway to the goal before taking aim and delivering an incredible power shot that drove the ball into the net, so fast it was a blur.

"Again, again!" Terriermon cried enthusiastically, bouncing on top of his head—and considering watching Ken hand Wallace his ass on the pitch was a thrill to watch, Daisuke couldn't really be mad at the bunny Digimon for using him as a stand.

After the Dark Seed stopped affecting him, Ken's skill level in soccer had fallen just like everything else, but soccer was one of the few things he loved and wanted to continue doing. He could still run circles around Daisuke, but it was nothing compared to that first game. He was probably on par with the rest of the Tamachi team now, and he never won the position of captain in middle school—or really seemed interested in winning it now that they were in high school.

On the fourth attempt, Wallace managed to get the ball first—although, Daisuke was sure that only happened because Ken allowed it—but Ken stole it within the next ten seconds and sank it into the goal not long later.

After the fifth attempt, Wallace flopped onto the grass and called out, "Okay, okay, I give."

Daisuke scrambled to his feet, and the Digimon followed him onto the pitch, where Ken met them at Wallace's side.

Ken leaned over him curiously. "Quitting already, Wallace-san?" He released a laugh at the blond's sheepish smile and headed back toward the bags, lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face as he turned, and Wormmon followed close behind.

Daisuke eyed the corded muscles of Ken's stomach and then the large strip of pale skin at his back, but it disappeared when he released the shirt. Only then did Daisuke offer Wallace a hand up.

"Shit," the blond said as he struggled to his feet, eyes on Ken's back. "Your boyfriend is insanely sexy, Daisuke."

"He is," he said, then he caught himself. "Uh, not my boyfriend."

Wallace laughed, still a little breathless, and nudged him in the side. "God, you better hurry up and get your head on straight. Otherwise, you'll lose your chance."

Daisuke scowled at Ken's back, and he and Wallace slowly followed him toward the tree. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Wallace practically cackled.

*

They grabbed popsicles on the walk back. By the time they reached the apartment, Daisuke's blue popsicle was dribbling down his chin, and he had to wipe his face with the back of his hand to keep from dripping everywhere.

The three of them settled at the table while V-mon led the Digimon to the couch and turned on the TV.

"Today's Thursday, right?" Wallace asked and licked the golden-yellow liquid off his lips—traveling halfway around the world had to make keeping track of the days difficult. "So tomorrow's the get-together thing you mentioned?"

Ken slid his pink popsicle from his mouth. "Yes, we're getting together at Takeru's this time. We typically start around six in the evening."

Wallace nodded and turned his attention to Daisuke. "How far is it? And how does it work?"

But Daisuke was too busy watching Ken's dark pink tongue glide up the side of his popsicle, completely unaware of the blue droplets sliding down his fingers and splattering on the table beneath.

Hadn't he just decided to stop thinking about his best friend's mouth? About wanting to kiss him? Let alone wanting other things.

Okay, technically no.

But he'd decided to decide to stop thinking about Ken's lips and tongue and how utterly beautiful he was. Because it was never going to happen. Because thinking about these things just made alone time more difficult. Because it made him want things he had no right to want.

Ken covered his popsicle with his mouth again, sliding his lips down to swallow the pink frozen treat with utter finesse.

The popsicle stick, wet and sticky from melting, slipped from Daisuke's fingers and clattered on the table, making an even bigger mess.

On the other side, Wallace burst into laughter.

"Fuck," he muttered, snatching it up, along with the tip that had broken off. He plopped the loose piece in his mouth, and before he could even begin to figure out how to clean up the utter mess on the table, Ken was handing him a towel.

He accepted it gratefully and wiped his sticky hands one at a time while Ken cleaned the table with the sponge. Something in Daisuke's chest clenched with pleasure at how at ease Ken was in his family's apartment.

After rinsing out the sponge, Ken settled back into his seat, smiling softly around the remnants of his popsicle, and when he tugged it out, his tongue followed, circling the tip before retreating back into his mouth.

Daisuke was pretty sure popsicles were ruined for the rest of his life.

There was no way he would ever be able to eat one without thinking about Ken's lips and tongue, about Ken licking and sucking and—

His phone, sitting on the table out of his still dripping popsicle's range, buzzed with an incoming email.

A moment later, Ken pulled his phone from his pocket. He'd gotten an email too.

Daisuke unlocked his phone, smearing sticky blue liquid on the screen.

The emails were from Hikari in one big group thread: _Takeru-kun's mom has the flu, so we need to move the location tomorrow night. Anyone willing to host?_

Ken frowned at his phone. "I can't," he said, then typed out the same response, adding, _My dad's having a couple business associates over for dinner._

Iori responded quickly, also negative, and Miyako said they could do it at her house if that was the only option, but all her siblings would probably nose their way into the gathering and interrupt everything.

With a sigh, Daisuke glanced around his family's apartment.

It's not like his parents paid attention to what he did or who he had over—they hadn't batted an eye the first time he'd asked Ken to come over without consulting them—and Jun was only occasionally there since she finally got her own place, even if it wasn't far away.

He sucked his popsicle into his mouth, wiped his hands again, and jotted out, _I guess we could do it at my place. My parents won't mind._

Miyako almost immediately emailed back: _Oh, thank god. My sisters are driving me crazy and I need to get away this weekend, even just for a couple hours._

Daisuke decided not to bother responding to that one and instead set his phone down. "Looks like we're having the movie night here," he said with a shrug, finally catching up an irritated Wallace on the situation. "Takeru's mom is sick."

Wallace smiled. "Oh, that's convenient, right?" He bit off the end of his popsicle and licked the stick. "The having it here bit, not about his mom."

Shrugging, Daisuke said, "I guess."

Wallace hummed, then pushed his chair back—only to pause when the front door opened.

"Daisuke? You here?"

He groaned.

Jun.

"You know," Daisuke snapped when his sister came into view, "the beauty of you not living here anymore is that I don't have to see you every day—and yet you keep showing up."

She waved away his words, but it only took her a moment to take in the scene. "Yeah, yeah, I just need to pick something up, then you can go back to your impending threesome." And she moved on to her bedroom, still half-full of her things, without a backward glance.

In her absence, Wallace rose from his seat, a little smirk on his lips, and disposed of his popsicle stick and washed his hands.

Leaving Daisuke alone at the table with Ken.

And Ken, his pink-tinged cheeks buried under a curtain of black hair, eyes downcast, lips glistening with the remnants of his popsicle, looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Ken," Daisuke murmured, reaching out a hand but falling short.

"Oh, hey, Daisuke?"

He turned to look at Wallace, still in the kitchen. "Yeah?"

"I wanna take a shower. Can you show me how it works?"

Daisuke gritted his teeth but swallowed down the rest of his popsicle and pushed away from the table. He rinsed his hands really quick, then motioned for Wallace to follow him.

His conversation with Ken could wait a minute.

The blond followed without hesitation, already tugging his shirt off before they'd even made it to the bathroom—he definitely smirked when Daisuke's eyes flitted over the suddenly bare skin. "Like the view?"

"Shut up." But Daisuke's cheeks were definitely pink when he closed the bathroom door.

*

Ken rose from the table, the apartment suddenly quiet, and cleaned up. Per usual, Daisuke's spot at the table needed to be washed again, and Ken had no problem taking care of it.

But that didn't cover the ache in his chest.

Daisuke and Wallace were so at ease with each other. They laughed freely, they joked and teased—and they definitely flirted. Wallace seemed to enjoy flirting with him quite a bit, finding amusement in how easily he could fluster Daisuke.

The worst part, of course, was how Daisuke responded to the flirtations.

Not that Ken had any right to keep Daisuke to himself. They were best friends and nothing more, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise. And with this development, the odds of that changing were minimal at best. Why would Daisuke be remotely interested in him when Wallace was right there, sleeping in his bedroom every night and practically throwing himself at him?

Ken's fingers clenched around the sponge, but he forced himself to relax as he rinsed it under hot water, forced his breathing to settle, forced himself not to think about Daisuke and Wallace alone in the bathroom.

Unsuccessfully.

He shut off the water, dropped the sponge back by the sink, and leaned over the counter, burying his hands in his hair.

"Oh, Ken-kun…"

He bolted upright and turned wide eyes on Jun.

She leaned against the wall nearby, sad eyes watching him. "You really don't need to worry so much, sweetie. Daisuke's an idiot, but Wallace is only here for a little while."

Ken's shoulders stiffened, and he turned away. "I'm not worried about anything, Jun-san."

She snorted. "You're not fooling anyone." She paused, and when she spoke again, bitterness was palpable in her tone. "Except Daisuke himself, of course."

Yes, Daisuke, who was too oblivious to notice his best friend was in love with him. Who normally looked at said best friend like he was the entire world and who was now showing a half-dressed American boy how to operate a Japanese shower and bath. Daisuke, who was probably flirting with and checking out said American boy right now.

Ken needed to leave.

Immediately.

The Digimon were all snuggled on the couch, but Wormmon pulled away from V-mon and Terriermon when he approached. "What's wrong, Ken-chan?"

Ken shook his head. "We're going to head home, okay?"

The caterpillar Digimon crawled into his arms, but confusion crowded its eyes. "We never leave this early."

"Daisuke will be disappointed," V-mon said loudly.

Ken forced a smile onto his face. "I know, Vee. I'll make it up to him later." He patted the blue Digimon on the head, then turned for the door.

"You're leaving?"

Daisuke, shirt soaked and clinging to his muscular frame, stood at the nearer end of the hallway, blocking his path.

And Jun had disappeared, though her bedroom door remained suspiciously open.

Ken took a deep breath and forced his feet to move, heading for the door, walking precariously closer to Daisuke. "Yes," he said, keeping his voice low. "It was nice to meet your friend, but I need to go home."

He tried to pass, but Daisuke cut him off, pressing his hand to the wall and blocking the path with his arm.

"Wait." Daisuke's face contorted with concern. "I don't want you to go. We barely got to spend time together."

"Yes, well, that's to be expected. You have a guest." He took another step, but Daisuke didn't budge—and Wormmon jumped from his arms and headed toward the door to sit atop his bag to give them some semblance of privacy. "Daisuke, let me past."

His best friend groaned in irritation. "No."

"I don't want to impose," he whispered.

"Ken, you're never imposing. I don't care who else is here—you're always welcome."

A soft smile tugged at his lips, but Ken couldn't allow himself to give in. "Yes, well, Wallace would obviously rather have you to himself right now."

Daisuke scoffed. "Why are you acting weird? Is this because of what Jun said?"

He stiffened.

"You know she was just saying shit, right?" But his voice hitched. "Like we'd ever have a threesome. Like we'd ever do anything. Ignore her."

Ken's eyes fell shut.

Exactly. He and Daisuke would never be more than friends, whether Wallace were included or not.

"What do you think of Wallace now that you've finally met him?"

He shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant, and took another step toward the door, but Daisuke just moved farther in his way. "Why…" His eyes caught on the wet T-shirt snug around Daisuke's torso. "Why are you all wet?"

"That asshole…" Daisuke rolled his eyes with a chuckle and pulled his arm out of the way to yank the sopping wet T-shirt over his head. "Wallace said it was for good luck and sprayed me with the showerhead." He slung the shirt over his shoulder, and his golden skin glistened from the moisture.

Against his better judgment, Ken's fingers found a droplet of water at his collarbone and traced a line down his sternum, fascinated as Daisuke's body quivered under his touch. Daisuke's eyes fell shut, and his breath trembled, and Ken was entranced.

"Ken…" The word came out as a whimper.

His fingers came to a stop just below Daisuke's belly button, almost to the elastic waistband of the black shorts. "Hmm?"

"Stay."

He yanked back as if burned. "I can't."

Daisuke's eyes blinked open, the pupils blown wide. "Then tomorrow, after the movie night. You'll stay then, right? Stay the night?"

Ken worried his lip.

"Please?"

His eyes fluttered shut, but he nodded. "Okay. I'll stay the night after the movie."

"Good." Pleasure filled his words as he spoke, and his fingers wrapped around Ken's hand. "You can sleep with me again. That was…nice."

Ken opened his eyes again, and Daisuke stared back at him, eyes big and dilated. The look on his face was all too familiar—it was the one that made it seem like Ken was his whole world, the one that made Ken feel utterly beautiful and loved and _wanted_.

"Okay," he murmured, unable to speak any louder. "That _was_ nice."

When Daisuke looked at him like that, Ken couldn't deny him anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the movie night, so we finally get to see Miyako, Hikari, Takeru, and Iori!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty bois

The train was full of people heading home after a long day of work, but Ken and Wormmon were on their way to Odaiba for their semi-weekly movie night. He watched the people shift about the train, reading books, emailing on their phones, but Wormmon twisted in his arms to look at him.

"Ken-chan?" the Digimon asked quietly. "Is there a reason you took so long to pack only to leave your overnight bag in your room?"

He sucked his lip between his teeth, desperately wishing his partner weren't quite so observant for once. "I must've forgotten it."

"You never forget your bag, Ken-chan."

And well, what could he say to that? It was an accurate assessment, especially when he was normally so excited to spend the night at Daisuke's.

"Why don't you want to have a sleepover tonight?" the caterpillar Digimon asked, concern lacing its voice. "Did Daisuke do something wrong?"

Ken bit his lip.

Yes, he'd deliberately left his overnight bag at home, hoping that would be an excuse not to stay the night. Not to put himself through curling up in Daisuke's bed and cuddling his best friend again.

He hadn't expected to sleep so easily next to someone, even Daisuke, but once he'd adjusted to sharing the bed, it had been quite comfortable. It'd been nice to have Daisuke's comforting warmth next to him all night, wrapped around him, keeping him safe and sound, feeling his heartbeat so close.

It had been years since the Dark Seed had affected him, but he still struggled to feel comfortable around people, to get to know others. He still struggled with a lot of things, but somehow, Daisuke made all that easier. Years later, and Daisuke was still the person who could get through to him, who made him most able to be himself to the fullest extent. And that was most obvious with how easy it had been to fall asleep in his embrace that night.

As much as he wanted to spend the night again, to enjoy that extra time with Daisuke, there was also the concern of getting too comfortable. If he let himself fully enjoy these intimate moments and then they ended, his heart would break.

"No," Ken said in a gentle voice. "Daisuke didn't do anything wrong, and I _do_ want to spend the night, but…"

"Are you worried Daisuke wants Wallace to kiss him?"

He froze.

Where the hell had _that_ come from?

"Wha-what do you mean?" he struggled to say. "Where did you hear that?"

Wormmon snuggled closer. "Something Terriermon said yesterday. But I'm not sure I understand. When you care about someone, you kiss them, yes? You kiss your parents all the time. And me. You've even kissed V-mon before." The caterpillar hummed thoughtfully. "Why don't you kiss Daisuke? He's your best friend, isn't he?"

For a long moment, Ken couldn't fathom how to answer the question, but he certainly couldn't leave Wormmon in the dark on such an important subject.

He cleared his throat. "Ah, Wormmon, there are different kinds of kisses," he said slowly. "There's a certain kind of kiss when it's family, but when it's a friend, kissing means something _different_."

"Oh? What does it mean?"

And there was the problem. How could you describe romantic and sexual attraction to a species that had no concept of romance or reproduction?

"If I were to kiss Daisuke," he murmured, just loud enough for the Digimon to hear him, "it would mean I don't want to be friends anymore. It would mean I want more." He worried his lip, then realized. "It would mean I'd want me and him to be like my parents—to be together, to live together and sleep in the same bed and plan our lives together, and neither of us could kiss other people. Does that…does that make sense?"

Wormmon blinked at him, considering the words with a seriousness seldom found in the other Chosen Children's partner Digimon. "Hmm, I think so."

Ken nodded. "Good."

"But Ken-chan…"

"Yeah?"

"That would mean I'd get to see V-mon more often too, right?"

He nodded.

"And you liked sleeping with Daisuke, didn't you?"

Ken's eyes darted around the compartment, hoping no one heard that, but he nodded again when he felt comforted that no one had caught on to their quiet conversation.

Wormmon grinned at him. "Then I think you _should_ kiss Daisuke. I like it when we do things with him and V-mon, and it would be nice to live with them and plan our lives together, don't you think?"

His mouth went dry. Apparently he hadn't explained it well enough. "Uh, maybe," he said, desperate not to make a promise he couldn't keep. "I'll think about it."

"I'm sure he'd rather kiss you than Wallace." The Digimon paused thoughtfully. "If you're not allowed to kiss anyone but Daisuke, does that mean you couldn't kiss me anymore?"

A soft smile spread across Ken's lips, and he hugged his partner tighter and pressed a kiss to its forehead. "Of course not. You're family, just like Mama and Papa. I'll always be allowed to kiss you."

Wormmon preened under the attention. "Good."

*

Daisuke didn't often do much to clean up around the apartment on most days, especially when it would just be a mess again almost immediately, but it was different when company came over. He spent a good twenty minutes organizing the living room and getting the television ready for whatever movie they would watch.

Meanwhile, Wallace watched from the dining table, amusement etched on his face as he chatted up Jun and their mother.

Daisuke grumbled as he pulled a couple blankets out of the cabinet under the window. His mom was far too easily won over by the suddenly well-mannered American boy who spoke Japanese like he'd mastered it years ago—although, to be fair, Wallace had always been suspiciously good at speaking the language.

"Hey, Daisuke!" Jun yelled. "Are you going to eat dinner?"

He waved her question away. "I dunno. Are you going to learn how to make your own food? Or will you keep coming over here to mooch off of us?"

He'd been the one to make dinner anyway: a simple ramen with supplies they'd had on hand. Their mom had gotten home from work late, and she was only eating a small portion before going to meet their dad for an evening out.

Which was fine by him.

His parents got to have a date night, and he got to have the apartment to himself and his friends—as long as Jun got up off her ass and went back to her own life.

It's not like this was much different than normal. As soon as he'd been able to fend for himself—or more accurately, as soon as Jun had been able to look out for him—his parents had retreated into the background, rarely present even when they were there. Now that he was almost done with high school, they spent more and more time away. They barely bothered to maintain the status quo.

"Why would I learn when I can eat this?" Jun countered with a little smirk. "This is really good. I'm impressed, Daisuke."

He rolled his eyes and turned away.

Because as much as it might _sound_ like a compliment, it was underhanded at best.

"You actually did something right this time."

And there it was.

No longer underhanded.

But before he could decide on a comeback, the doorbell rang.

Daisuke tugged out his phone. It was still twenty-five minutes till six. The only person who ever arrived this early was Ken.

He hopped to his feet and bolted for the door, his body jittery with excitement and a sudden nervousness he hadn't expected.

Because they'd barely emailed since Ken had bailed the previous day with no more of an excuse than "I need to go home"—and they both knew that was bullshit. Ken had left with no explanation, and Daisuke was desperate to fix whatever had happened.

And now he could.

Ken was here, and he'd promised to spend the night. Which meant they were going to share his bed again, and they could catch up and they could cuddle, and he could wake up to Ken right there, and dear god, he was way too eager.

Any excitement dissipated when he yanked open the door, though.

"Jeez, Daisuke," Miyako snapped, arms crossing over her chest, a sack from Ai-Mart dangling from one hand, "you don't have to look so disappointed to see me."

Hawkmon stood at her knee and gave a polite bow. "Pleased to see you as always, Daisuke-san."

He steeled his features. "Sorry, I thought you were—"

"Ken-kun?" She cocked an eyebrow, and when he neither confirmed nor denied, she laughed. "I know I'm early, but I just had to get out of that house." He stepped aside to let her in, and she didn't even pause as she slipped off her shoes, Hawkmon at her heels. "Do you have any idea how overbearing older siblings can be? They don't even live at home anymore, but they're still there all the time."

Daisuke snorted. "Something tells me I know exactly how that feels." He led the way down the hall toward the main living space, and she followed in a brisk step.

"I'm trying to focus on my final year—I have to take entrance exams soon—but how the hell am I supposed to focus with them bursting in like they still live there?"

He stifled a laugh as his mom, Jun, and Wallace came into view, and Hawkmon flew off to his bedroom, where V-mon and Terriermon were hanging out—mostly likely napping.

Miyako set the sack on the counter and turned to the group at the table, addressing his mother first. "Ah, Motomiya-san, thank you for letting Daisuke host our movie night this week, especially at the last minute. We really appreciate it."

His mom smiled. "It's no problem, really. We're happy to host. I'm about to head out anyway."

Miyako greeted Jun next, then turned her attention to Wallace, who grinned at her in that flirtatious way he'd managed even at age eleven.

"You remember Wallace," Daisuke said with a shrug before heading back into the living room to finish getting things ready.

The blond boy laughed and rose from his seat to take her hand and press a kiss to the knuckles, like he had with Ken at the park. "Hello, Miyako." He flashed her a smile, still holding her hand in his, and a playful lilt laced his voice. "I've been looking forward to seeing you again."

As predicted, Miyako blushed at the attention, and her mouth spread wide in a grin. "Still up to your old tricks, I see." She pulled away slowly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear—she had her hair loose for once, and it framed her face in a way Daisuke supposed would be rather attractive if it weren't Miyako.

Wallace cocked an eyebrow. "Tricks? You wound me, milady."

She released a loud laugh.

Daisuke rolled his eyes as he dropped a stack of cushions he'd just pulled from the cabinet onto the floor for easy access. The couch had enough room for five or six people if they squeezed tight, but everyone would rather be comfortable than squished—especially Ken, who would rather sit on the floor by himself than pressed between even two of his closest friends.

"Alright, I'm going to head out," his mom called as she pushed in her seat. She rinsed her empty dishes and left them in the sink. "Daisuke?"

He lifted his head to look at her, eyes connecting across the wide space.

"Make sure you put everything away after everyone leaves. Your father and I don't want to come back to a mess all over the living room because you can't clean up after your friends." She gave him a stern look that shifted into a small smile. "Call me if you need anything?"

He turned away, hiding his face as he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

No sense in arguing—as much as he might leave his own room a mess for weeks at a time, he always cleaned up when everybody came over and he didn't need reminding to do it. And there was definitely no sense in reminding her that she rarely put any effort into keeping the apartment in order either.

When the apartment door closed behind her a moment later, he allowed himself to shake his head, irritated despite the normalcy of it. His parents simultaneously treated him like he was supposed to fend for himself and like he was too ditzy to figure out how to handle, well, anything.

"So what's the plan?" Miyako asked, leaning against the back of the sectional couch. "What movies have you picked out?"

Daisuke frowned as he looked over the living room, making sure he'd set everything up properly. "Haven't really thought about it," he admitted, not meeting her gaze. "Last minute, you know."

She laughed. "Well, let's run over to Tsutaya and rent a movie or two."

That made him turn. "Everyone will be here soon. We can't leave the apartment empty."

Miyako rolled her eyes. "Somebody—"

"I can stay," Jun said, pushing her seat back from the table. "I was about to head out, but I can stay a little longer in case someone shows up while the three of you are at the shop."

He frowned at his sister, who didn't even bother to look at him or make a show of her unprecedented generosity as she took the remaining dishes to the kitchen and started to wash them. Was Jun, at age twenty-three, finally starting to grow up?

"What's in it for you?" he asked carefully.

Jun laughed. "Oh, don't worry about it, little brother. I've already negotiated my payment with your cute friend here."

Daisuke sought out Wallace's gaze.

The blond met his eyes with a little smirk as he moved to stand next to Miyako. "Well, are we going to rent movies or not?"

*

Miyako abandoned them almost as soon as they reached Tsutaya, saying a quick, "I just want to look for a book. I'll be fast," before disappearing into the rows and aisles.

Daisuke led the way to the newer releases, and he and Wallace looked through the endless options. Action flicks, dramas, romances, documentaries, anime, horror. There were plenty to choose from, but Daisuke struggled to concentrate, his brain focusing on Ken's strange behavior instead, trying to figure out why he hadn't emailed, why he hadn't gotten there when he usually did, why he'd bolted the previous day.

"Hmm, we could get this," Wallace said, tugging one of the _Resident Evil_ films off the shelf. "Milla Jovovich is hot."

Of course Wallace was drawn to one of the American films.

Daisuke shrugged and pulled out his phone.

It was almost six now. If the gathering was at someone else's house, Ken would always meet him and they'd go over together, and if it was there at the Motomiyas' apartment, he liked to show up early so he could spend some time with just Daisuke.

He should have been there before they left for Tsutaya.

"Or maybe this?" Wallace pulled out another, but Daisuke didn't even look at it.

Was it because of Wallace? Was that why Ken had run away with an explanation that was so obviously a lie? He hadn't even _tried_ to hide it, not really.

But if it was Wallace, that couldn't improve. He wasn't going anywhere for at least three weeks.

For the first time, Daisuke and Ken would spend the night with someone else in the room with them. And the only good thing about that was, Wallace's presence would easily negate the intimacy of sharing his bed with his best friend and hopefully prevent him from crossing a line and doing something stupid—like, say, kissing said best friend, who was too damn beautiful and sweet and lovely for his own good.

"How about this?" Wallace asked, holding up another movie. "You seen this one?"

Daisuke frowned when the sparkling cover caught his attention. " _Dreamgirls_?"

Wallace laughed, close to his ear, and poked him in the ribs. "Come on, I _know_ you like musicals."

He pulled away, trying not to let Wallace's invasion of his space irritate him—it's not like he was acting any differently. No, Daisuke was the one acting weird.

And Wallace wasn't unobservant.

He stepped close again and pressed a hand to Daisuke's upper arm, skin to skin. "Something's bothering you. What's going on?"

Daisuke met his bright blue eyes but hesitated. "It's nothing." Talking to Wallace about Ken didn't sit right, not when Wallace obviously made Ken uncomfortable—he'd hate it if he knew Daisuke blabbed about their relationship to the American boy.

Wallace scoffed. "Do you have any idea how easy it is to tell you're lying?"

He pursed his lips, refusing to answer.

"Well, I guess it's just one of the many ways you're easy to understand." The blond's lips curled into a smile, and still, he didn't pull away. "You _are_ a simpleton, after all."

"Shut up."

Daisuke shoved him, but stumbling backward, Wallace grabbed his T-shirt sleeve, dragging Daisuke with him, and they slumped awkwardly against the wall-mounted shelves. Daisuke slapped his hands on either side for support, and Wallace caught his eye, even more noticeably taller now that they were close—too close.

"Damn, Daisuke," Wallace murmured, "buy me dinner first."

Miyako chose that moment to reappear, eyebrows raised at the awkward position, her hands slung in the pockets of her raspberry-colored cardigan. "Am I interrupting something?"

Daisuke shot her scowl as he tugged free and stepped away, putting more space between them than necessary. "No luck with your book?"

She shook her head, but her eyes studied both boys curiously. "Seriously, is something going on here?"

Wallace took the opportunity to push away from the shelves, secure enough they remained undisturbed by their weight, and slid his arm around her waist. "Unfortunately, no. You see, I could never stand a chance with Daisuke here. His heart belongs to another."

With a snort, Miyako leaned against him. "Oh please. He definitely made goo-goo eyes at you while we were in Colorado."

Daisuke glared. "That was six years ago. I was ten."

Wallace nodded sagely. "Six years can change a lot. Ken wasn't in the picture six years ago."

Daisuke frowned, even as he struggled to focus on reading the movie titles.

Because that wasn't strictly true.

Ken had definitely been in the picture; he just hadn't been fully himself—not yet. Their cross-country trip to Colorado had happened not long after they defeated the Digimon Kaiser and Ken had gone home to be with his folks.

Much later, Daisuke had learned Ken had spent that time in a weird fugue state—a psych term Ken had had to explain multiple times. His brain had had to stitch back together all the pieces it could in the sudden absence of the Dark Seed's influence. He'd had to completely relearn who he was. And he'd found Wormmon, who quickly managed to evolve to Stingmon, all while they were fighting Chocomon on the other side of the world.

Ken may not have been part of the team yet, but the moment Daisuke had touched the Digimental of Miracles, he'd known Ken was a Chosen Child like them. A small part of him had already decided to be Ken's friend.

"Maybe you can help me move on," Wallace was saying, meeting Miyako's gaze with big, dilated eyes—and a deep pink blush spread across her cheeks even though she had to know he was joking around.

Then, she pulled away. "Please," she said with an amused scoff, her face still flushed. "The last thing I need is another person badgering me about my dating life."

Daisuke frowned. "Your family?"

"Momoe has been driving me crazy." She sighed as her eyes scanned the shelves. "She keeps saying, now that I'm about to graduate, I need to find a boyfriend—just because she got engaged her first year of university doesn't mean _I_ have any interest in that."

Compassion flared in Daisuke's chest, but he just nodded as he too looked for a movie.

Miyako was one of the most ambitious people he'd ever met, and she was good at what she did, even if he knew nothing about computer programming. She wouldn't be one to settle down so quickly, even if she found her ideal partner.

Behind him, Wallace chuckled. "No problem," he said, slinging an arm around her again, not at all intimidated by the fact that she was easily a dozen centimeters taller than him. "Just get a nice long-distance boyfriend, and they can't pressure you to get married."

She snorted but didn't shrug him off.

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's pick out a couple movies and get back. At this rate, everyone will get there long before we do."

That got Wallace's attention, and he slid away from Miyako to lean close to him again. "Come on, Daisuke. We all know you just want to get back so you can see Ken." The smirk on his blond friend's face was far too perceptive for Daisuke's liking.

Miyako laughed outright. "You two see each other so often I don't know how you even have time to miss him." She stretched an arm up to grab something from the top shelf. "Oh, cool, this has the actor who does Howl's voice."

Daisuke, already scowling, took one glance at the cover and shook his head. "I don't want to watch a legal drama."

She scoffed. "Fine, fine."

"Zombies," Wallace suggested, pointing out another.

"Ken hates horror."

A smirk tugged at his lips. "How could I forget? Making your boyfriend happy is our number one priority."

Considering Ken's weird behavior the previous day, yes, it was definitely Daisuke's top priority. But he wouldn't acknowledge Wallace's teasing words with a response.

Miyako grabbed another movie from the shelf and held it to her chest, possessive-like. "Why don't we each pick a movie and then we can all choose back at the apartment?"

Wallace chimed in that that was a great idea before quickly selecting his own choice, leaving Daisuke as the only one who needed to choose. He settled on a psychological thriller—Ken loved talking about psychology and the human mind and all that mumbo jumbo—and pulled out his T Card as they made their way to the register.

They ran into Hikari on their way back to the apartment, and when they arrived, Takeru and Iori were waiting for them. Jun said a quick goodbye—after sending Wallace a conspiratorial wink—and disappeared out the door.

But there was still no sign of Ken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to get the feeling this will be longer than twenty chapters. Uh-oh.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Ken hasn't had enough scenes from his perspective. Hmm.  
> Also me: Hey look! A whole chapter from Ken's perspective!

With how late they were running now, Ken was surprised he hadn't gotten a worried email from Daisuke. He was never this late. In fact, Ken was notoriously early for everything, especially when it meant he got to spend extra time with Daisuke.

But well…Wormmon had been correct.

As much as the idea of spending the night again made him nervous, he couldn't let that prevent him from enjoying the limited time he had with his best friend. Sure, it would probably be awkward with Wallace there, but Daisuke always made sure he was as comfortable as possible under uncomfortable circumstances.

So he'd made the decision to go back to grab his bag, which had been relatively simple. Instead of transferring to the Rinkai Line at Osaki Station, he'd taken the Yamanote Line back to Tamachi Station.

The fact that it was an additional delaying tactic wasn't a factor.

Sure, Daisuke would've happily leant him anything he needed, but it was the symbolism of the fact. And now, with the overnight bag slung over one shoulder and Wormmon clutched tight to his chest, he had finally made it to the Tokyo Teleport Station and was making his way to the Motomiyas' apartment.

"Do you think Daisuke will be upset?" he murmured as they crossed the street, the apartment building now in view. "We're really late."

Wormmon squirmed to look toward the apartments. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

They turned the corner of the building, about to head up the staircase, when they bumped right into someone. Wormmon struggled to remain attached, clinging to the shoulder of his indigo V-neck, and Ken's hands tightened on the box of cookies his mother had sent for their festivities.

The other person—Jun—nearly fell on her ass.

As she caught her bearings again, she turned a glare toward him, but that quickly faded upon recognition. "Oh, Ken-kun, there you are!" She took a look at her watch with a frown. "Jeez, you're really late tonight. Daisuke's been worried."

He bowed his head. "I should have emailed him."

But Jun waved his words away. "No use whining about it now. Get up there then and fix it."

"Right." He gave her a bow before they parted ways, and he took the stairs as quickly as he could.

All too quickly, Ken stood in front of the apartment door, hesitating once again, but he held tight to Wormmon in one arm, the box clutched in the other, and rapped his knuckles against the wood. And all he could do was wait. And hope the night wouldn't be as stressful and uncomfortable as he anticipated.

The door pulled open, and he schooled his face into a small smile—

Which quickly disappeared when he realized the person on the other side was Wallace himself.

"Hey," he said, bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're super late, Ken. Did you need to take extra time for your beauty routine?"

Ken swallowed, bowing his head. "You're even answering the door," was his quiet observation.

Wallace shrugged. "Daisuke's setting up all the food everyone brought." His eyes darted down to the box of cookies. "I can take those to him if you want. Get some of that stuff off your hands."

He hesitated but allowed the blond to take the box out of his arms, jostled from the encounter downstairs with Jun, and Wormmon jumped from his shoulder, leaving Ken with only the overnight bag slung over his shoulder. "Thank you," he said as Wallace led the way down the hall toward the main apartment.

In the living room, everyone, human and Digimon alike, was crowding around the short table to snag the drinks and snacks Daisuke was still organizing, even as he snapped and pushed their greedy hands away with a laugh. Wallace moved to place the box, lid now off, on the table too, and Daisuke barely moved back. "Hey, where did that…?"

Ken stood at the edge of the room, watching, and then everyone noticed him all at once.

The room echoed with happy variations of his name— _Ichijouji-kun_ , _Ken-kun_ , _Ichijouji-san_ —that all fell away when Daisuke turned and grinned at him, his eyes alight at finally seeing his best friend. " _Ken!_ " He dropped the bag he'd been holding onto the table and crowded close, his hands finding purchase on Ken's upper arms, the warmth of his fingers permeating the thin material of his short-sleeve shirt. "What took you so long?"

Ken bit his lip and cast his eyes down to the floor, taking in the space between them—or the lack thereof. "Sorry I'm late."

But Daisuke just shook his head, a fond smile on his lips, and nodded toward his bedroom to their left. "Come on. Let's put your stuff away, alright?" He grabbed him by the hand and led the way inside the open door, only to close it behind them while Ken shrugged the bag off his shoulders.

The lock slid into place.

Ken froze, and the bag slipped from his fingers, falling the remaining couple centimeters to the floor. "Daisuke?"

But his best friend leaned back against the door, arms crossed over his chest, all amusement gone from his face—everything but his eyes—and glowered at him. "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you? Or do I have to keep worrying?"

Ken could only offer him a small rueful smile as he dropped onto the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you worry."

Daisuke immediately softened. "I know." He crossed the room and joined him on the bed, no hesitation as he sat close enough their thighs brushed. "But you're acting weird. You bolted yesterday and you were late today…" A long sigh flew from his lips, and he reached for Ken's hand again, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. "Is Wallace that bad?"

"Of course not…"

It wasn't that simple, even if he wished it were.

There wasn't anything inherently wrong with Wallace. Sure, he was a flirt and a tease at best, but Ken had no real claim over Daisuke for Wallace's actions to be outright wrong. And the fact that he came on so strong and didn't shy away from flirting and teasing so publicly? Well, he _was_ an American; it was somewhat forgivable.

No, the real problem was with Ken.

The real problem was how easily Wallace's behavior got under his skin. How much he missed spending time with his best friend without someone else there to interrupt. How much he wished the rest of the world would fade away and it could just be him and Daisuke, no one and nothing else. How frustrated he was that Wallace got to spend every waking moment with Daisuke and that Wallace was so confident he had no issues blatantly flirting with his host. The real problem was how _jealous_ Ken was.

He cleared his throat, grateful for Daisuke's endless patience when it came to things like this, and murmured, "I know it's selfish, but I miss spending time with you. _Just_ you."

"Oh." When he glanced over, Daisuke's cheeks were a bright pink, but his eyes sparkled with unprecedented happiness. "Well, you know, it's okay to be a little bit selfish, Ken. I mean, I—"

"And I had to go back for my bag."

Daisuke stopped mid-sentence and blinked at him, taking a moment to process the interruption. "Your bag?"

Ken nodded toward the overnight bag on the floor. "I left it at home and had to go back to grab it before coming over."

He could only hope it didn't sound as much like a cop-out as it felt.

But Daisuke laughed. "You didn't have to do that. You're always welcome to borrow anything you forget, you know that."

He nodded.

Because he definitely knew that.

He also knew that borrowing Daisuke's pajamas while also sharing his bed was a recipe for disaster. Everything he'd touch and smell and feel would be Daisuke, and that was dangerous. The last thing he needed was to overwhelm his senses and his thoughts with nothing but his best friend. How could it get more intimate than that?

Yes, he craved that intimacy—his entire body quivered with want for it—but he also understood the precarious situation it would put him in.

Ken chewed his lip and looked away. "I appreciate that, but I'm much more comfortable with my own things."

Besides, now he had no excuse to leave tonight.

As much as spending the night in Daisuke's embrace scared him, he knew exactly what Daisuke's crestfallen face would look like upon his announcement that he was leaving instead of staying over—again. He couldn't handle disappointing Daisuke again.

"Okay." His best friend flashed him a crooked grin and pressed close enough his head rested on Ken's shoulder. "I miss you too, you know," Daisuke murmured, like it was a secret. "I like having Wallace here and he's a good friend, but _you_ …" He released a shaky laugh. "You're the only one who doesn't _you know_ , and you're always in my corner, and you still push me to make me better, and…well, you're my best friend. My most important person."

Ken's eyes fell shut, and his fingers clamped around his best friend's hand. "Daisuke…"

He pulled back little, startling Ken's eyes open again, and they looked at each other in the quiet of the room. "Ken?"

 _I think you should kiss Daisuke._ Wormmon's words echoed through his head. _I'm sure he'd rather kiss you than Wallace._

Ken's gaze darted to Daisuke's lips as the words resurfaced.

Oh god, could he seriously be considering listening to a Digimon on the subject of romance? Because as much as he loved Wormmon, and as wise as Wormmon often was, the caterpillar couldn't possibly be the arbiter of wisdom on _this_ matter. Even after their conversation on the train, Wormmon couldn't possibly understand the nuances of romance and sex and sexuality well enough for its opinion to be the be-all and end-all when it came to him and Daisuke.

But how else was he supposed to react when Daisuke said things like _that_?

His eyes studied Daisuke's mouth again—and he swore it was closer than before—and he ached. He _wanted_. Even if he had no right to.

 _Knock knock knock_.

Ken's gaze immediately shifted toward the source.

"How long are you guys going to take in there? Jesus!" Wallace's voice shouted through the locked door. "If you don't hurry up, we're starting the movie without you."

He swallowed, burying the want and the ache and the desperation until he could look at Daisuke and smile—Daisuke, who was leaning away now but still firmly held his hand, looking equal parts confused and annoyed. "We should get back out there, huh?"

Daisuke took a deep breath and stood up from the bed, dragging Ken with him. "Yeah, let's go. Before they decide to watch _Transformers_ or something." He scoffed, leading the way toward the door.

*

In their absence, the group had chosen to watch _Transformers_ and flipped off the lights, and the movie had already begun when Daisuke tugged him onto an open space in the corner part of the sectional.

Ken curled up beside his best friend and happily accepted the warm blanket offered to him, and Daisuke scooted close so they could share, pulling a bowl of rice crackers into his lap. "This was Wallace's choice," Daisuke grumbled and stuffed a couple crackers in his mouth before offering the bowl to Ken.

He smiled at Daisuke's blatant irritation and leaned closer to grab a cracker. "Well, what movie did you want to watch?" he whispered.

Daisuke opened his mouth, then hesitated. "I forgot."

Ken couldn't help the laugh that came out.

"Hey, shut up." Daisuke shoved him playfully and openly grinned despite his words. "It was a psychological thriller, though. You like movies that make you think, right?"

Any remaining laughter died at the hopeful look on his best friend's face, and Ken melted into an affectionate smile. "You didn't have to pick out a movie for me." A self-conscious blush rose to his cheeks.

Daisuke grabbed a handful of crackers from the bowl in his lap. "Of course I did. You've been acting funny, and I wanted to make sure you'd have something you like." And then he ruined the kind words by shoving the entire fistful of crackers into his mouth.

Not that that helped the sudden lump in Ken's throat.

He couldn't even think of what to say, so he settled back into the pillows and directed his attention to the rest of the room.

Takeru was stretched across the longer section of the couch, his head on a pillow at the far end, a mask over his face to prevent the potential spread of infection, and Patamon was curled up on his lower back, taking a nap. Tailmon, too, was nestled snugly with its partner; Hikari was sitting on one of the cushions on the floor, her elbow resting on the table, and Miyako reclined on the floor not far from her. Iori sat on the floor right in front of Takeru, his back resting against the couch. And then there was Wallace, who looked completely at ease sitting right up front with the two girls, occasionally leaning close to one of them to whisper something in their ear.

The rest of the Digimon, Wormmon included, were hanging out in the backlit kitchen with some of the snacks. Wormmon smiled at Ken when he cast a glance over the back of the couch to take in the scene, and Ken smiled back, then the Digimon happily returned to its conversation with V-mon and the others.

On the television, there was some battle with a scorpion Transformer—one of the bad guys—and the main American military operative was desperately trying to contact his commanders. Ken supposed the Indian guy on the other end of the phone was supposed to be comedic, but he wasn't paying attention.

Daisuke surged forward to slide the bowl of rice crackers onto the table before settling back into his seat, but the movement had completely altered Ken's position.

Finally at ease, Ken relaxed and allowed the couch and gravity to shift him closer to Daisuke, close enough their arms pressed together. Here he was, surrounded by his friends and their Digimon partners, and Daisuke was right next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him to his side. Ken melted into his embrace, molding himself to Daisuke's frame so completely he couldn't imagine pulling away.

How could he not relax when Daisuke was so warm and cuddly and pleasant? When he held Ken close like he was something precious, something that deserved to be protected and cared for? How could he not want Daisuke to hold him like this all the time?

Ken's eyes fluttered shut.

Of course, cuddling like this wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, but it also wasn't something they did around others. The darkness alone—well, the darkness and Ken's need to make amends in a language Daisuke understood—made the act permissible.

"You tired already?" Daisuke whispered, and callused fingers tucked a few stray strands behind Ken's ear. "It's not even seven thirty yet."

"You're too comfortable," he murmured, burrowing his face into his friend's chest.

Daisuke's body rumbled with laughter. "I could stop?"

Ken allowed a scowl to mar his face. "Impossible."

"So what, I'm just supposed to let you fall asleep?"

A soft hum of approval was Ken's only response, and the world faded into darkness, only loosely interrupted by the sounds of gunfire and shrill, mechanical battle cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this movie night was only supposed to last a chapter--a chapter and a half at most. It's going to be at least half the next chapter as well. *shrug*
> 
> I promise the other kids will have legit speaking roles in the next chapter. Ken just needed time to be emo in this one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wallace is shameless.  
> Daisuke feels shameful.  
> Ken sleeps.  
> Everyone else is just along for the ride.  
> A very uncomfortable ride.

Daisuke shifted his weight slowly, trying to readjust for maximum comfort without disturbing Ken, who was practically curled up in his lap now, black strands of hair falling in his face. He itched to thread his fingers through the silky hair, to smooth it down and away from his eyes, to trace the soft lines of his face now that it wasn't creased with worry or regret.

Ken always carried so much on his shoulders, tried to hold the whole world up in penance; it was only when he slept that he looked completely carefree and comfortable—and unfortunately, that was too often ruined by nightmares.

Frankly, he hated it.

As far as Daisuke was concerned, if anyone in the world deserved peace, it was Ken. But at least he could take comfort in the fact that, according to Wormmon, Ken slept better when they had their sleepovers than when it was just him and Wormmon alone in the bedroom that had once belonged to his dead brother.

With a sigh, Daisuke allowed himself to move the glistening strands from Ken's face and tuck them behind his ear, then pull back and train his eyes on the television.

He needed to focus on the movie, not Ken.

Starscream was just joining the battle, hidden as one of the other F-22 Raptors sent to help extract the cube, as he settled in to paying attention again.

Then, the movie suddenly paused.

"Sorry!" Miyako cried, jumping to her feet. "I need the toilet."

A chorus of boos and laughter followed her as she darted toward the bathroom. The silence that followed was deafening—they'd had the movie quite loud since no one else was home.

Daisuke glanced at the others, desperate not to let his attention linger on Ken now that they weren't distracted. He'd been surprised when Ken had snuggled up to him so willingly right in front of their friends, but the movie and the darkened room had provided cover.

In the center of the room, Wallace jumped to his feet and moved to the wall to turn the lights on.

Cover that was steadily disappearing.

"Well," Wallace said with a bounce in his step, "this seems like the perfect time to refill drinks." He moved back into the living room to grab the empty bottles from the table and carried them into the kitchen.

Hikari set Tailmon on the floor beside her and pushed up into a standing position to stretch. "Daisuke-kun," she asked, her eyes focused on the table, "should we put any of the food in the fridge?" Her eyes darted over to him then, pausing on the way Ken lay on top of him, and smiled. "Ah, you two look sweet."

A flush rose to his cheeks, brightening when that garnered the attention of everyone else, and he murmured, "Shut up," before anyone else could say anything.

Not that that stopped them.

Takeru sat up, holding Patamon in his arms instead, and Daisuke could tell he was grinning just from his eyes. "Oh, that's just too much." The words were barely muffled by the mask.

"Is that comfortable, Daisuke-san?" Iori's mouth twisted into a tight purse in concentration.

And then Wallace leaned over the back of the couch, right behind Daisuke, and smirked. "Are you two always this close?" He held out a bottled soda, adding, "You know, if he naps a whole bunch now, he won't be tired at bedtime. Hmm, how could he possibly entertain himself while in bed with you?"

If his flush had faded any, it came back tenfold at the teasing lilt in Wallace's voice.

A fact that no one had the decency to miss.

Hikari grinned. "Daisuke-kun, you're blushing."

As if she needed to state the obvious.

When Wallace dangled the bottle in front of him, Daisuke finally snatched it from his hand. "Even if that were the case," he snapped, keeping his voice low and steady for Ken's sake, "how would we do anything with you in the room?"

Wallace flashed him a lazy smirk and pressed his elbows on the back of the couch. "You've clearly never given a blowjob at four in the morning while everyone else at the slumber party is sleeping."

Daisuke's mouth went dry. He quickly popped the marble on his soda to take a drink.

On the far side of the couch, Takeru snickered through his mask. "That's…oddly specific."

Wallace shrugged and pushed away from the couch to grab more drinks from the fridge. "Usually that means it's from personal experience, right?" he called from the kitchen.

"What's from personal experience?"

Ah, Miyako was back from the bathroom.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably.

Well, everyone who had the luxury of being able to move without disturbing their best friend, who would just die if he knew what the hell they were talking about.

Fuck.

No.

Thinking about blowjobs and Ken was a rabbit hole he wasn't allowed to go down. One he was very much not allowed to go down.

Forbidden even.

Ken was sleeping _on his lap_ for god's sake. And if he let his thoughts go down that road, it would be impossible for Ken not to notice when he woke up.

"Daisuke, your face is bright red. What are you hiding?"

He wanted to bury his face in the freezer.

And shove Miyako in there too.

"What?" He took a drink. "No." And another. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She scowled at him, hands on her hips.

Then, Wallace came up beside her and offered her another soda, which she happily accepted. "He's just flustered because we were talking about blowjobs and Ken's face is remarkably close to his—"

"Can't you bug someone else?" Daisuke snapped, blatantly ignoring how high-pitched his voice came out. If he ignored it, it didn't happen.

"Why?" Surprisingly, the question came from Hikari, who was gathering a couple of the snacks to put in the fridge. She cast him a curious glance that would seem completely innocent aside from the glint in her brown eyes. "Does the conversation bother you?"

Bother him?

Of course it fucking bothered him.

She stacked everything in her arms and swept around the couch toward the kitchen, saying, "It shouldn't. Not if Ken really is _just_ your best friend, right, Daisuke-kun?"

He took a long drink and slumped his head against the couch, letting his eyes slide shut, desperate to drown them out.

He hated them.

All of them.

Terrible friends.

Absolutely shit friends.

"What?" Wallace, of course, was particularly persistent. "You're not going to answer that, Daisuke?"

Miyako snorted. "Please. If we can't get him to admit his feelings when Ken isn't here, we _definitely_ can't do it with Ken in the room, even if he is asleep."

Daisuke held his tongue.

Swallowed down his irritation.

Smothered his need to fight back.

Because she was right. Ken was right here, sleeping, and if he got into an argument with them right now, that was sure to wake him up. And Ken waking up at _this_ exact moment was the worst thing that could happen.

"Really?" Wallace sounded surprised. "I feel like that might make it easier."

"Don't you know how stubborn he is?" That was Takeru. Another traitor.

Hikari sighed—she must've come back from the kitchen already. "I don't know why you keep postponing it, Daisuke-kun." Her voice even sounded a little sad, a little pitying.

And.

Okay.

That was the last straw.

Daisuke's eyes snapped open into a glare as he took in the room, particularly bright after having his eyes shut for so long. "Time to drop it," he snapped, no longer thinking about keeping calm.

Miyako opened her mouth—

"Or we could talk about your family pressuring you to find a boyfriend," he said, staring at her pointedly. "Or how uncomfortable things have been since Hikari-chan and Takeru ended their secret relationship last month. And Iori…"

Okay, well, he didn't have any complaints about Iori.

His eyes snapped back to Wallace. "And don't even get me started on _you_."

Wallace raised his hands in mock surrender and zipped his mouth shut. "I'll behave."

That wasn't remotely believable, but it would have to do.

Miyako pursed her lips but flipped off the lights again and returned to her seat on the floor, and Hikari settled down beside her, definitely avoiding eye contact with Takeru, who had squished himself into the opposite corner of the couch, as if making himself as small as possible. And Iori…well, Iori just looked uncomfortable, but that wasn't irregular.

They started the movie again, and Wallace dropped to a cushion on the floor, this time next to Iori. He swung his arm around the younger boy's shoulders and leaned close to whisper things in his ear.

Really, Wallace would flirt with anything that moved. Iori was only fourteen for fuck's sake.

The weight on his lap shifted and twisted until Ken had turned his back to the world, his face buried against Daisuke's stomach, and half the blanket had fallen off. A soft whimper came from his throat, and his fingers gripped Daisuke's T-shirt.

"Shhh…" Daisuke tugged the blanket back into place and ran his fingers through Ken's hair, moving it away from his face again. "You can keep sleeping," he murmured, leaning close to keep the words just between them. His fingers traced the side of Ken's face over and over again in what he hoped was a comforting way. "Relax, Ken. Everything's alright. I'm right here."

Slowly, the discomfort faded, and Ken relaxed again.

*

The world was warm and soft and comforting, and Ken had no desire to exist anywhere else for the longest time, despite the strange distant sound of water falling and someone straining. But that sound was nothing compared to the hot skin pressed against his jaw and neck, fingers parting his hair.

He wrapped his arms around the warmth and nuzzled against the soft fabric. A soft sigh slipped from his mouth as the hand at his jaw began a gentle caress, thumb gliding over his skin in slow circles. The fingers in his hair were a little rougher, and a tiny, pleased moan soon followed.

The hand stilled, and the warm body he was snuggling stiffened.

He hummed in irritation and swallowed and swallowed again so he could speak. "Daisuke…" His voice still sounded rough with sleep, and his eyes refused to open. "Why'd you stop?"

The body shook with silent laughter. "You _are_ awake," he said, his voice hushed. "We're on our second movie, baka. You've been out for like three hours."

"Hmm…"

"Everyone's going home after this one. Maybe fifteen minutes left."

Ken took a deep breath and shifted, tugging his arms free to push himself up again, and Daisuke pulled his hand free. When he finally forced his eyes open, he realized, at some point, he'd fallen into Daisuke's lap instead of just leaning against him, and well…that was a little awkward.

But Daisuke just smiled at him in the dark living room when their heads were level again, Ken still supporting himself against Daisuke's knee. "Hey, sleepyhead." He ran his thumb down the side of Ken's face affectionately, and Ken leaned into it, letting his eyes flutter shut again.

He licked his lips, slow and careful, and released another sigh before opening his eyes again.

Daisuke was staring, eyes dilated in the darkness.

Well, perhaps they were dilated more than necessary for the darkened apartment. And perhaps he was staring at Ken's mouth. And perhaps…

Kissing Daisuke seemed like the best course of action.

Dear god, there wasn't anything he wanted to do more than kiss Daisuke. He wanted to climb atop his lap and wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him till he couldn't breathe. Till neither of them could breathe. Till neither of them _wanted_ to breathe.

He reached out a hand, laid it on Daisuke's chest, just over his heart. The steady cadence under his fingers was strong and fast; Daisuke's heart was beating as fast as his, pounding along in a powerful but sporadic rhythm.

Daisuke cupped his cheek, and he pressed to the open affection, relishing the way the beating under his hand jumped pleasantly when he reciprocated that affection.

"Ken?" Daisuke whispered the word and bit his lip like he was scared, like he didn't want to draw too much attention to what was happening, like he didn't want to draw _Ken's_ attention to what was happening.

"Daisuke."

Ken pressed closer, grabbing on to the couch with his other hand to keep his balance, eyes falling shut when he got close enough. Under his hand, Daisuke's heartbeat was erratic, but he was certain his was equally so. After all, that seemed—

Suddenly, there was the sound of a raging crowd.

Screaming and yelling in…what was that, Korean?

Gunshots.

Ken pulled back, twisting around completely to look at the television. The music had gotten exponentially louder and more suspenseful, and there was a monster on the screen—and their friends were spread around the room, watching whatever movie they'd picked.

"Ah, Ken, you're awake!"

He blinked.

Wallace was now sitting next to Iori, who looked particularly uncomfortable with how close they were but refused to move to avoid being rude. "Nice of you to join us," the American boy said and flashed him a giant grin.

Ken threw off the blanket that was tangled around him and darted for the bathroom, and only a moment later, he slammed the door shut, confining himself in the small room reserved for the toilet.

Oh god.

What the hell had he been thinking? Had he really been about to kiss Daisuke in the middle of their group movie night? Was he really that stupid?

He dropped onto the toilet lid and buried his face in his hands.

Fuck.

He hadn't been thinking at all. He'd been half-asleep, and he'd let his guard down enough to allow himself to almost make what could only be classified as a mistake.

Even if his feelings were reciprocated—had Daisuke's heart sped up because he reciprocated, or because he _hadn't_?—the setting was hardly an appropriate location for a first kiss. Or any kiss really.

Ken had always been a private person, and it wasn't like him to do something so openly affectionate in front of other people, even if those people were their closest and most trusted friends.

How could he have done something so stupid?

Well, almost.

That was the main solace here.

He hadn't actually kissed Daisuke—and no, he wasn't going to address the vast amount of _regret_ that swelled inside his chest right now—and that alone made the situation salvageable. That alone made his actions forgivable.

 _Knock knock_.

"Ken-kun?"

He took a shaky breath, trying to steady his still pounding heart. "Ah, I'll be out in a minute, Hikari-san," he called through the door.

"The movie finished. We're all cleaning up and getting ready to leave." She hesitated. "Are you alright?"

He stared at her shadow under the door, uncertain.

If he wanted to talk to her—if he wanted to talk to anyone—he had no idea how to explain what the hell was going on inside his head right now. Or inside his heart.

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just…give me a minute?"

"Of course."

When her shadow receded, he decided he probably needed to actually use the toilet before heading out there.

A minute later, he opened the door and slipped out into the now bright living area, where everyone was bouncing around, putting away the snacks, packing up their things, folding blankets and returning the cushions to their designated cabinet, even vacuuming the living room rug. He watched the chaos build and build around him until it peaked in a terrible crescendo.

Ken hid away in Daisuke's bedroom, closing and locking the door behind himself for safety. He should get dressed for bed anyway.

But once he was in his pajamas, he didn't feel much better. He didn't want to say goodbye to anyone.

He didn't want to _talk_ to anyone.

Instead, Ken unlocked the door, leaving it closed, turned off the overhead light, and threw himself on the bed, burying himself under the covers and pressing against the wall until he couldn't get any closer.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, hidden away under the covers, listening to the distant sounds of his friends saying their goodbyes, until the noises faded.

At last, the door opened, and feet padded into the room.

The light flicked on.

Then immediately off.

"Look," Daisuke whispered. "Ken's trying to sleep."

Wallace chuckled quietly. "Sure." He didn't sound particularly convinced.

The door closed.

They shuffled about the room. Daisuke, presumably, sifted through his drawers, then opened and closed his closet. The familiar sound of the futon being unrolled, then the sound of Wallace settling on the bed to go to sleep.

Then, and only then, the mattress shifted.

Daisuke.

His best friend.

His longtime crush—though crush hardly seemed an accurate term for the way he felt.

Daisuke who he'd almost kissed maybe half an hour ago.

Fuck.

Ken had still been tired when he'd first woken up and probably could've fallen back to sleep easily, but that wasn't the case now. Now, he was wide awake, and there was no way that would change any time soon.

A finger tapped at his blanket-covered shoulder. "Ken?"

He tried not to react. This would be so much better if Daisuke just thought he was sleeping already.

"I know you're awake," his best friend murmured. "I know what your breathing sounds like."

Dammit.

Ken bit his lip, then took a shaky breath. "I just want to go to sleep right now," he said, hoping the words carried despite how muffled they must be.

For a moment, Daisuke didn't move or speak.

Then, "Okay." He retreated, shifting on the bed, making sure to keep the distance between them. "Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably take a few days longer than the last couple. I have a super secret ~~birthday~~ project to finish up in the next couple days...that will remain a secret because she conveniently hasn't started this fic yet.
> 
> ~~Please don't start reading this in the next three days...~~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is relatively self-indulgent. But really, that explains this whole fic.

Ken couldn't sleep.

Even pressed against the wall, taking up as little space as possible, they were somehow still touching. When they had shared the bed only a few days ago, it hadn't seemed nearly this small, this suffocating.

It didn't help that every time one of Daisuke's limbs drifted too close, he pulled back quickly, like the contact was physically painful.

And it definitely didn't help that even when Daisuke rolled on his side, facing away, Ken could feel the heat emanating off his body.

Which wasn't terribly surprising.

Daisuke had always run hotter than anyone else he'd ever met. He burned with the fire of a thousand suns, searing hot and blindingly bright, powerful in a way that Ken couldn't escape his gravity if he tried.

Ken had stopped trying years ago.

They were bound together—as teammates, as Jogress partners, as best friends—and for a long time, Ken had regarded that bond as unbreakable.

But if anything could break that bond, it would be this. It would be this uncomfortable tension between them. It would be this struggle to simultaneously understand each other and keep the other at arm's reach. It would be this fear, this anxiety, this jealousy.

It would be Ken's feelings for him.

He pulled the blanket over his head, but he couldn't breathe. Felt nauseatingly stifled. Had to tug them back away from his face. Breathed deep of the refreshingly cool air. His eyes stung.

"I'm sorry."

Ken stiffened. He listened closely, but the breathing from the floor had grown slow, heavy—Wallace seemed to be asleep.

"I'm not sure what happened," Daisuke whispered, "but I'm sorry if I upset you."

Dammit.

How could he…?

Ken threw the blankets away from his face and rolled onto his back, keeping close to the wall. "You didn't do anything wrong, Daisuke."

"Then what happened?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," was all he could say.

Daisuke was on his back too, and despite Ken's best efforts, their shoulders brushed; Ken's knuckles grazed against the back of Daisuke's hand.

Then, Daisuke twisted his wrist and grabbed hold of Ken's hand, clinging to it with a desperation, a vulnerability he rarely put on display. "Promise?"

And that…

Well, Ken just couldn't handle that.

He shifted against, readjusting so he was on his side again, this time with his back to the wall. Daisuke's grip was still tight around his hand, but he managed to slide his fingers so they laced with Daisuke's.

In the dark, Daisuke was still staring at the ceiling, and Ken watched closely as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"Daisuke?"

He cast a quick glance over, but his gaze reverted to the ceiling.

Ken tugged on his arm. "Daisuke."

At last, Daisuke turned to face him as well, his eyes big and anxious and scared. "Yeah?" The word came out raw, like he was holding back insurmountable emotion.

Ken cupped his free hand to his best friend's temple, fingers delving into the cinnamon-colored locks, and pressed their foreheads together. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, okay?"

He released a quivering breath. "Okay."

"I just…"

But how in the world could Ken explain what had happened? How could he do that without admitting he'd been about to kiss Daisuke? Because the moment that was out there, there'd be no taking it back.

He chewed the inside of his cheek, then managed to say, "I'd just woken up. I wasn't thinking straight. And then I was embarrassed."

There.

Accurate and true, but not too much information. And Daisuke was smart enough to read between the lines.

It took Daisuke a moment to say or do anything beyond breathing, his fingers clenching around Ken's in the minimal space between them. "You, uh," he finally said, stumbling over his words. "You don't need to be embarrassed. About anything."

He bit his lip, clamping down till he was sure he was going to bleed.

Because there was no way Daisuke was telling him not to be embarrassed about almost kissing him. Surely he was talking about falling asleep during their movie night. And cuddling in front of the group.

And hell, if he _was_ telling him not to be embarrassed about the almost kiss, it was only because Daisuke's kindness was endless and he would forgive his every infraction.

"You're a good friend," Ken managed to say at last.

Daisuke sighed, relaxing—and his breath grazed Ken's skin, his lips, his throat, sending a buzzing anticipation through his body. "I do my best." He paused, and the hesitation, the nervousness, was palpable. "Can I…?"

"Yes."

Ken had no idea what he was asking permission to do, and he'd give Daisuke leave to do anything.

Still, he was pleasantly surprised when Daisuke tugged the blankets up to their necks and slid his arm over Ken's waist, scooting close enough their legs were practically intertwined.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Daisuke murmured.

Now, Ken could barely tell their bodies apart. Their hands were linked. Their arms and legs were all weaving together and around each other. Even their breaths intermingled.

"Always."

Daisuke squeezed his hand. "I, um, really like this. Sharing the bed with you."

Ken's breath hitched. "Oh."

Although, really, it made sense. Daisuke was the most physical person Ken knew. He showed his affection with touches and hugs and tickles, even roughhousing and wrestling if the occasion called for it.

Often, when the occasion _didn't_ call for it.

Ken could recall far too many times they'd been doing something trivial—watching TV, playing soccer, just hanging out—and after a short exchange of teasing repartee, Daisuke had him pinned to the floor, the grass, the couch cushions. He could've easily broken the hold—he was still decent at judo—but Daisuke straddling him with that smug, victorious grin did stupid, inconvenient things to his body.

And well, Daisuke's admission did stupid, inconvenient things to his heart.

He took a shaky breath and stroked his hand through cinnamon-brown hair, his fingers scraping his scalp, drawing a trembling gasp from Daisuke's lips. "I like it too," he admitted in a small voice, relishing the way Daisuke managed to draw closer. "A lot."

After that, Ken found falling asleep much easier.

*

In his sleep, Daisuke had stretched out how he often did, rolling onto his back, slinging one leg over the edge of the bed, one arm thrown haphazardly across the mattress. The real difference was Ken's lean body plastered to his side, his face buried in the crook of his neck, his arm curved around his ribs, his legs entangled with Daisuke's own.

His breath trembled as he gathered his courage. He didn't want to wake Ken, but he also wanted to be able to see him better. Slowly, he turned just enough his best friend's face was in view.

Dear god, why did Ken have to be so beautiful?

He was asleep, a line of sweat across his brow, strands of hair sticking to the skin, but he was the most beautiful person Daisuke had ever seen. He was kind and gentle and lovely, and Daisuke's chest clenched as he studied the smooth features, softened with sleep.

It didn't help how inviting his mouth looked, how inviting _all_ of him looked.

Daisuke let his eyes fall shut.

As much as he enjoyed sharing his bed with Ken, it probably wasn't a good idea if he spent the whole time wanting to hold him and touch him and kiss him.

Not that anyone could blame him after taking one look at his gorgeous best friend.

Okay, there was probably someone somewhere who didn't think Ken was the most beautiful person in existence, but Daisuke couldn't come up with a reason _why_.

Sure, there were plenty of attractive people in the world, but Ken's beauty went down to his very core. He'd been through hell, but when he came back to himself, he still managed to be the kind, gentle person at the essence of his being. That took far more courage that Ken realized he had.

Daisuke wetted his lips and opened his eyes, meeting Ken's blue-violet orbs, blinking blearily at him. A soft smile spread across his face. "Morning."

"Good morning," Ken murmured, pulling back just enough to stretch out his legs, one at a time. "Time is it?"

He shook his head. "No idea."

Ken rubbed at his eyes, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. "Hmm. But you're so awake." The words were jumbled and squished together, barely discernible through the yawn.

A small laugh slipped from his mouth, and Daisuke reached up a hand to move a few sweaty strands behind Ken's ear. "I was just thinking," he said, fingers lingering.

Probably shouldn't mention that he hadn't looked at anything but him.

He swallowed, trying to sound more like himself, and relaxed back into position, his arm wrapping around Daisuke's waist. He quivered when he met skin there instead of fabric—the T-shirt had ridden up during the night—but didn't pull away, tentative fingers splaying across the bare skin. "Thinking about what?"

_How beautiful you are…_

But well, he couldn't say that out loud.

"I'm glad you stayed," he said instead, and when Ken didn't pull away from his touch, he threaded his fingers through his sleek black hair. "I hate how far you have to travel, how little I get to see you. Wish you could just live _here_."

"Daisuke," he chided, but pink dusted his pretty cheeks. "I don't live that far away. It's just a short trip on the train. Besides, we see each other at least once a week, even during classes—far more often during break."

"Mmm, it's not enough."

"We wouldn't be able to see each other more often if I lived in Odaiba," Ken murmured. "I'd have to literally live with you for it to make a difference."

Daisuke smothered a laugh. "You might as well. I already asked you to stay for the month. I certainly wouldn't mind having you here." His thumb rubbed circles from Ken's temple down to his jaw.

"Oh…" Ken's flush came back full force, pink darkening his cheeks. "I didn't realize you were serious." He bit his lip, nervous eyes darting around before returning to Daisuke's face. "You wouldn't mind sharing the bed for a whole month?"

"With you?" Daisuke snorted. "Of course not."

"Oh," he said again, and he clenched his hand into a fist, nails scraping against bare skin in a way that made Daisuke's eyes go hazy. "I…I can't stay for the whole month, you know."

"I know." Daisuke tried not to notice how rough his voice came out, but he cleared his throat and said it again. "I know that."

Ken licked his lips, his eyes distant, searching for something unspecified. "But that doesn't mean that I…" The words were slow, uncertain.

And Daisuke laughed, his hand sliding down to the crook of Ken's neck and shoulder—the shiver that ran through Ken's body sent waves of pleasure down his spine. "How about tonight? Can you stay another night?"

A small smile spread across pink lips, and slowly, the hand across his abdomen relaxed. "I'll call my mom to ask."

"Hmm." Daisuke's eyes darted to study that lovely pink mouth; he didn't miss the way Ken's cheeks remained flushed, pink and beautiful and enticing. "You should ask about tomorrow night too," he said, ignoring the voice in his head that told him he was being impulsive. "Really, you should just stay till Tuesday."

Ken's brow furrowed, even as the flush deepened. "What's Tuesday?"

Daisuke grinned. "Well, I know we've eaten plenty of ramen, but I was thinking it would be a good introduction to proper Japanese food, right?"

Ken's face fell, but he immediately schooled his features into apathy.

A frown spread across Daisuke's features, and he squeezed Ken's shoulder. "I know those are our nights," he murmured, meeting blue-violet eyes with purpose, "but we can't just leave him."

He nodded. "I know."

"I'll make it up to you." The promise fell from his lips with ease, and a small smirk quirked his mouth. "When he leaves, I'll make it up to you."

At last, Ken smiled again. "Okay. But if I'm going to stay for…" He paused, doing the math. "If you want me to stay for three more nights, I'm going to need more clothes."

Daisuke snorted. "Wear mine. Or nothing. Who cares?"

Ken pulled back, averting eye contact, his face flushing a deep red. "I care."

"Fine, fine," he said, reaching for his shoulder again and pulling him back into his embrace. "Okay, we'll go to Tamachi to get you more clothes."

Blush still prominent, Ken cocked an eyebrow. "We?"

"You don't mind dragging Wallace along, do you?"

"Do you not trust me to go there on my own?"

Daisuke chuckled. "I trust you to _go_ there just fine. But I'm not sure I trust you to come back."

Ken worried his lip, his face suddenly serious. "I'll always come back to you."

Heat rose to his cheeks, his heart ached with pleasure and longing, and he grinned. "I'll hold you to that, Ichijouji."

"With that in mind…" Ken pulled away again, sitting up slowly, but this time, Daisuke let him go. "I do need to use the bathroom." He hesitated, eyes sliding over the room. "Seriously, what time is it? Wormmon isn't in here…and neither is Wallace."

The Digimon had fallen asleep on the couch while he and the others were cleaning, and Daisuke hadn't had the heart to wake them up to bring them to bed. But Wallace had definitely slept in the room with them.

He cast a glance around the room.

Sure enough, the futon had already been rolled up and put away.

Daisuke frowned. He hadn't even thought about Wallace, so consumed by everything Ken that he hadn't even considered how oddly silent the room was. "Breakfast?"

"Maybe."

Daisuke stretched to grab his phone from the desk, but he froze when Ken threw his leg over his hips and off the mattress. Ken slipped over him in a fluid motion, but their eyes met as Ken moved atop him, and the air caught in Daisuke's throat.

Then, Ken was gone, padding softly toward the door.

He didn't close the door all the way, but when Daisuke was alone, his body relaxed, letting go of a tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

How was everything with Ken simultaneously easy and completely nerve-wracking? They were comfortable together, and Daisuke knew he could tell him anything, but there was a fire that burned, bright and intense, in his chest every time he looked at his best friend.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

All too easily, the fleeting image of Ken hovering above him as he climbed off the bed came unbidden in his head. The moment had only lasted a second, but that particular image would haunt him for a while, especially the dark look in Ken's eyes.

_Does it bother you?_

Daisuke bit his lip.

_It shouldn't. Not if Ken really is_ just _your best friend, right, Daisuke-kun?_

Ken really was _just_ his best friend, wasn't he?

They'd known each other and been best friends for so long now that it was hard to imagine anything else. They were best friends, partners, practically family. They were bonded to their very souls, as far as Daisuke was concerned.

But that didn't account for the attraction that had been building for…well, forever. Daisuke couldn't pinpoint a moment it had begun; it felt like it had always been there.

The fact of the matter was, Daisuke was ridiculously attracted to Ichijouji Ken, to his best friend. It was easy to ignore, simply because everyone found Ken attractive, but he had to admit, his attraction went beyond physical appearances.

Sure, Daisuke loved to look at Ken, to relish the way he moved and smiled and shivered. Every action was done with a gracefulness Daisuke had never seen the likeness of, and he loved every second of it. But he also loved the shy way Ken shared something he really liked, the way he tried to hide his laughter, the way his face hardened when he was really focused or determined.

More importantly, he loved the way Ken _didn't_ try to hide his laughter when it was just the two of them. He loved how at ease Ken was with him, how he didn't hesitate—nearly as much—to say what he felt and what he wanted.

But really, he loved everything about Ken.

How could he not?

He loved Ken.

Suddenly, Daisuke couldn't breathe. Like the air had been knocked out of him. Like the weight of the realization was preventing him from doing anything but gasp.

He loved Ken.

He _loved_ Ken.

Okay, of course he loved Ken. It was Ken.

But he was _in love with Ken_.

Shit.

How had he never realized before? How had he never—?

"You okay? You look half-dead."

Daisuke released a shaky breath and twisted to look at Wallace, standing in the doorway. "There you are." The words came out strained, strangled. "Where have you been?"

Wallace leaned against the door frame with a laugh. "Really? I got up hours ago. Checked on Gummymon and the others. Had breakfast with your dad before he went to work."

Daisuke scrambled to sit up and grabbed his phone. It was nearly eleven. "Damn. I didn't realize it was so late."

"No, you didn't."

And if Wallace had eaten breakfast with his dad, he'd been up for hours.

"Sorry?"

But when his eyes met the blond's, Wallace was smirking. "For sleeping in with your boyfriend? Yeah, I guess I can forgive you."

He flushed. "Ken isn't my boyfriend," he said in a tiny voice.

"No, he isn't," Wallace agreed. "But you want him to be."

Daisuke couldn't exactly argue with that.

Instead, he said, "He's going to stay for a few days, so we've got to go to Tamachi to get more stuff. His mom is great. She's super nice, and she always gives us snacks and things."

"Alright." Wallace nodded, considering. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Warn me before you two start getting into it. I can sleep on the couch or something." He smirked again. "Unless you want to invite me to join you."

Daisuke chucked his pillow at him, and Wallace barely had time to cover his face with his arms as laughter bubbled out of him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is very difficult to write while surrounded by noisy children.

Daisuke tapped his fingers against the counter, anxiously waiting for the rice to cook so they could eat breakfast.

Rather, anxiously waiting while Ken called his parents in the privacy of his bedroom.

"Would you quit that?"

Daisuke sent Wallace a sharp glare.

But the blond merely cocked an eyebrow from his seat at the dining table on the other side of the peninsula. "It's not going to make the food cook any faster, and it's not going to make your boyfriend magically finish his phone call with his parents' blessing to move in with you and sleep in your bed and suck your cock."

A blush spread across his cheeks, and he redirected his attention to the rice cooker. "Shut up."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He obviously wasn't. "How many days did you ask Ken to stay?"

"Three," he mumbled. "And a half."

A whole month technically, but Wallace didn't need to know that.

"So you're going to sleep in the same bed with him for three more nights, huh?" Wallace took a sip of his tea, humming thoughtfully. "That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

Daisuke glowered at him. "What the hell does that mean?"

He shrugged. "I'm just wondering what happens one night when you two are snuggling like that and one of you gets a boner."

Oh shit. He hadn't thought of that.

"Honestly, I don't know how you didn't have one this morning." Wallace leaned his chair back on its back legs, fingers clutching the table edge. "If I had someone that hot pressing literally every inch of their body against me like that…" He let out a low whistle.

"Hey! Don't talk about him like that."

But Wallace only shrugged again.

 _Pop_.

The rice was finally done.

Still glaring, Daisuke turned around to pull three rice bowls from the cupboard and paddled heaping piles of steaming rice inside two of them. He set the bowls atop the peninsula, within easy reach of the table, leaving one by the rice cooker for when Ken finished with his phone call, and grabbed a bottle of shoyu and a couple eggs from the basket on the counter.

"Okay, what exactly are we doing with this?" Wallace asked when Daisuke slid the bowl and egg in front of him.

He rolled his eyes. "Tamago kake gohan," he said instead of answering. "Just watch." He dug a well in the middle of his rice, cracked the egg on the table, and dropped it into the well.

"What?"

Daisuke poured a little shoyu on top. "See?"

Wallace's eyebrows were pushing up under his blond bangs. "See what? We're eating raw eggs?"

He tried to hold back his laughter, but a chuckle fell from his lips anyway. "Mostly, yeah." Then, he dug his chopsticks into the bowl and mixed it together, saying, "If the rice is hot, it cooks the egg a little, thickens it up."

The American boy eyed him skeptically, but followed his instructions slowly. "This is going to be weird, isn't it?" He frowned at the food in front of him. "The yolk is so orange."

Daisuke cocked an eyebrow. "It is?"

By the time Wallace finished mixing his together, Daisuke had already downed half his food, and Wallace shot him a scowl. "You're not very good at waiting for your guests, are you?"

He shrugged. "You should move faster."

"How have you not made a move yet?"

Daisuke paused. "Huh?"

Wallace inclined his head toward the bedroom. "Ken. Why haven't you done anything about that?"

Ah, so they were back to that.

He frowned at his rice bowl, his chopsticks clenched between his fingers. "What exactly do you think I should do?"

"I'm pretty sure, if you kissed him, he'd either melt into a giant puddle of goo or offer himself to you." Wallace shrugged one shoulder, face scrunched up in thought. "Probably both."

Daisuke turned red at the blase way he said it, even his ears. "That's not…" He cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts. "You're exaggerating."

He scoffed. "Haven't you noticed the ridiculous amount of sexual tension?" He shook his head, then leaned forward to take another bite of his second breakfast. "Seriously, I'm tired of getting turned on by the way the two of you _look_ at each other. How are you not constantly in a state of blue balls?"

Daisuke opened his mouth, but he couldn't manage to say anything.

"Do you like to torture yourself?" Wallace kept going like there was nothing weird or embarrassing or completely inappropriate about what he was saying. "Because I mean, I get the point of delaying your orgasm and all, but if I were you, I'd just be walking around hard all the time. All the looks and the _touching_. Jesus. I don't know how you handle it."

"Wha…?" He spluttered, leaning forward and slamming his hand on the table. " _What_ touching?"

Wallace leveled him with an unimpressed stare. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the position I found you two in when I woke up this morning? Or you two cuddling during the movie night? The arm touches, the hair touches, the way you throw your arm over his shoulders—which really just emphasizes how short you are, by the way—"

"Hey!"

"—the way you drag him around everywhere and he just _lets_ you, the way he cleans up after you without a single complaint, the hand-holding, the rubbing and massaging, the face touches—definitely the face touches. God, even the way the two of you play soccer is foreplay." He chuckled in a vaguely reminiscent way. "Oh, plus the part where you two almost started going at it right in the middle of your movie night until Ken had a panic attack."

Fuck, he'd really hoped no one had noticed…well, whatever that was.

They weren't about to just "go at it," as Wallace said, but he had thought Ken was about to kiss him for a minute there. And then he hadn't, and Daisuke had just assumed he'd been imagining things. Ken had just been acting weird because he was half asleep. That's all.

Daisuke pushed away his half-eaten tamago kake gohan and buried his face in his hands.

He hadn't realized just how incredibly obvious he was—and that was before he'd realized just how deep his feelings for Ken ran.

That was concerning.

Because if he was that obvious when he'd assumed it was just some awkward physical attraction and that's it, how much worse could it be now that he knew how much Ken meant to him?

"But you know what the worst part is?"

He lifted his head enough to glare at his friend.

Wallace smirked. "It's the leaning."

That made him push up a bit farther. "Leaning?"

He nodded. "Any time you sit next to each other or talk to each other or even look at each other, you _lean in_. With your whole body."

Daisuke frowned. "I do?"

"You _both_ do." Wallace shoveled another bite into his mouth with a firm nod. "If that's not a sign of sexual interest, I don't know what is."

His flush, which hadn't fully faded, reddened exponentially as he processed the words. "A sign of-of-of…"

"Sexual interest," Wallace confirmed with an unnecessarily smug nod.

"It's not—we're not…"

But Daisuke couldn't find the words to rebuke or explain. There weren't any. He'd certainly never noticed himself _leaning_ —not like that anyway—and he definitely hadn't noticed Ken leaning too. And how in the world did that denote interest, sexual or otherwise?

"Don't think about it too hard, Daisuke. You're liable to hurt yourself."

He shot Wallace a scowl.

But then his bedroom door opened, and Ken waltzed out, still wearing his pretty lavender pajamas, a pleased smile on his face. He glided right over to the table and paused beside Daisuke's chair, resting a hand on the back and—oh, _fuck_ —leaning. "Mama said my staying longer sounds like a lovely idea. Do you want to go to Tamachi after we eat?"

Daisuke swallowed. "Uh, yeah, that sounds great."

"Yeah," Wallace said, sounding far more enthusiastic than he should, "this will be _fun_." The way the word rolled off his tongue in his stupid American accent made Daisuke way too nervous.

He cleared his throat. "There's, uh, food for you." He nodded toward the kitchen, where the third rice bowl was sitting, waiting, next to the rice cooker.

Ken's eyes fluttered low, and when he smiled, all Daisuke could focus on was the way Ken looked at him through dark lashes and pressed a hand to his shoulder in thanks before heading for the kitchen.

Daisuke spent the minute he was gone avoiding Wallace's eye contact.

And then Ken was back, sliding into the chair beside him and whipping together his breakfast, still smiling, and really, Ken had the loveliest smile. All soft and serene and gentle. Just like everything else about him.

Like the way he ate.

Daisuke loved to watch him eat. Loved to watch the way he moved the food to his mouth, all delicate and precise, like it was the most important task in the world.

"Thank you," Ken murmured. He dropped his elbow onto the tabletop and leaned toward him with that same soft smile.

Daisuke could only nod, but he found himself leaning too.

"Well," Wallace said, loud and abrupt, "I'm finished." He pushed his chair back, and sure enough, his bowl was empty. "You know, Daisuke, if we're going to Tamachi after this, you should probably actually finish your breakfast, right?"

When he glanced down, he realized he hadn't touched the food in a while. His bowl was still half full.

*

The train wasn't too busy, which pleased Ken just fine, but he still sat close to Daisuke, taking in his warmth and energy as comfort. He preferred traveling with Daisuke, with him there as a buffer and a distraction from all the other people around them.

The only problem, of course, was Wallace holding on to the hand rail not far away.

Ken still hadn't made up his mind about Wallace, but he definitely knew he didn't like losing half of Daisuke's attention to the American boy. He didn't like worrying and wondering, and he didn't like hoping either.

"How long of a trip is it?" Wallace asked, eyeing them curiously.

"Twenty to thirty minutes," Ken said, "depending on the day."

"We're not going to let you get lost," Daisuke shot at his blond friend with a teasing tone.

Hoping meant he had something to lose.

But when Daisuke leaned back and threw his arms over the top of the seats, Ken leaned back too, enjoying the pleasant feel of Daisuke's warm arm against his shoulders. In this position, he could imagine that warm arm was wrapped around his shoulders instead of spread out in relaxation.

Then, Wallace dipped forward and said, "Leaning," in a low, teasing voice.

Daisuke immediately turned red and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but he kept his arm there, not even inching away from Ken's touch.

What the hell was that about?

What did the word _leaning_ have to do with Daisuke's sudden strange behavior? Why in the world would that word make him nervous?

Before he could even consider asking, they reached Osaki Station and had to switch trains, and not long later, they were in Tamachi. Ken led the way to his family's apartment, where both his parents would be enjoying their Saturday afternoon.

"In here," he murmured, just inside the door. He took a moment to put away his shoes and slip on a pair of golden slippers, and Daisuke and Wallace followed suit.

His parents were sitting at the table, sharing a pot of tea, while his dad worked on some paperwork. They looked up as the boys padded into the dining area.

"There you are, dear," his mom said, hopping to her feet. "Hi, Daisuke-kun! Are you having a good summer break? How's your mother?"

Ken watched, a pleasant tug in his chest, as his mother wrapped Daisuke into a hug and he returned it happily, grinning at the open affection his own family rarely demonstrated. Daisuke had long ago become part of his world, part of his family, and Ken loved how Daisuke had settled into the position with ease and joy and confidence.

"Mama, Papa," he said, gesturing for Wallace to come forward. "This is Wallace, Daisuke's friend from America I told you about."

His mother turned to him with a smile. "Welcome to our home, Wallace. Can I get you boys anything to eat?"

Ken stifled a laugh. "You know Daisuke would never turn down something to eat, Mama."

She bustled into the kitchen, and Ken led them over to say hi to his dad before heading to his room to pack some more clothes for the next few days. Daisuke dropped onto the desk chair, swinging his legs around to straddle it backwards, but Wallace hovered by the door, staying out of the way.

"Is there anything in particular I should bring?" he asked, sifting through his dresser.

Daisuke rested his chin on the back of the chair and frowned, considering. "I dunno. What do you want to do?"

Ken shot him a skeptical glance. "You have a guest for a month, and you have nothing planned? I'd think you'd get bored."

"Can't plan everything, Ken. _That's_ boring." He grinned. "Besides, we're doing dinner Tuesday, and you know, August 1st isn't that far away."

Ken nodded stiffly.

The first of August, of course, was the day the older Chosen Children celebrated their initial trip to the Digital World, and once Daisuke and the others had joined the team, they joined the celebrations too. Ken, though, always felt out of place at those gatherings, as he did in many large group functions, and often relied on Daisuke to help him feel at ease.

This year, they were going to the beach, which of course meant Daisuke would be too busy splashing around in the water and playing volleyball and in general just bouncing around the beach to placate him.

Especially with Wallace there as well.

Because although Wallace had met Miyako and Iori and Takeru and Hikari at the same time as Daisuke, Wallace was _Daisuke's_ friend and _Daisuke's_ guest. Therefore, he was Daisuke's responsibility, and Daisuke would spend the whole time introducing him to the older members of the group and making sure _he_ felt at ease.

It was the right thing to do, of course, but that didn't make Ken feel any better about how uncomfortable he would be during the event.

"That's hardly much of anything planned," he said instead of dwelling on it. "What about things you think Wallace should experience during his stay?" Then, he cast a glance over his shoulder toward the blond, still hovering by the door. "Is there anything you'd like to do while you're here?"

Wallace just grinned at him. "Oh, I'm already having fun."

Ken frowned at the glimmer in his eyes and decided not to pry.

His mom knocked on the open door before stepping inside the room with a tray of food. "I've got some snacks."

She slid the tray onto the small table pushed over near his closet and gestured for the boys to grab something to eat. Daisuke stretched out an arm and snatched a handful of cookies from the tray, and Wallace pushed away from the wall by the door and grabbed a couple pieces with a soft thank you.

"What are you boys going to do for the next couple days?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron. She flashed Daisuke a bright smile, genuinely curious.

"Uhhh," he said through a mouthful of cookies.

Ken sent him a pointed look, and Wallace stifled a laugh by slipping a cookie in his mouth.

Daisuke swallowed. "We don't actually have anything planned. I just wanted to spend more time with Ken."

A blush rose to Ken's cheeks as he piled clothing into a bag, a happy ache in his chest, and when he glanced over his shoulder, Daisuke's cheeks were pink too—reddening further as Wallace chuckled into his hand.

His mom didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, though. She immediately moved on, turning her curious gaze between him and Daisuke. "Where are Wormmon and V-mon?"

"Ah, we left them in Odaiba," Ken said, closing his drawer and moving to his closet. "They elected to take a nap while we were out." He pushed apart the hangers, grabbing a couple button-up shirts and—

"No, no, no."

Suddenly, Daisuke was pushing him aside, still wiping his hands on his shorts. "We're not doing anything you need to dress up for."

Ken scowled. "Those are hardly formal wear."

But Daisuke pulled out a couple V-neck short-sleeve shirts and one of his Polos with a determined look on his face. "They're not formal, no, but you can still relax a little. I don't know what we're doing yet, but we're going to have fun."

Despite any minor irritation, Ken allowed his best friend to throw the shirts into his arms.

Daisuke was endlessly bullheaded when he set his mind to something, and Ken had long ago come to terms with the fact that life was much easier and much less stressful if he simply allowed him to do what he wanted. Besides, he couldn't say no to Daisuke when he got that serious look on his face—it was way too cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The leaning bit is a blatant reference to [this scene](https://youtu.be/UZ5JPa1TVgQ) in _While You Were Sleeping_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I thought this would be twenty chapters? Those were the days…
> 
> ~~In case you missed it, I updated the total number of chapters.~~

Ken tugged his legs up on the seat, hugging them close under the blanket. The cinema was always cold, as cool air blasted from the air conditioning units, but it was especially so when Daisuke had guilted him into wearing one of his few pairs of shorts, a sleek pair of indigo Bermuda shorts.

On the screen, the ocean raged on, water splashing against the islands and flooding the lowlands, giant fish riding the waves. _Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea_ was the latest Studio Ghibli film, and Ken generally liked Miyazaki's style, but his focus was fleeting at best.

Daisuke relaxed in the seat beside him, occasionally offering him sips of his soda or a handful of popcorn, and Wallace sat on Daisuke's other side.

Ken enjoyed the proffered food. Daisuke had never shied away from sharing anything with Ken, and as he took another drink from the lemon-lime drink, he tried not to think about the fact that Daisuke's mouth had touched the straw too.

An indirect kiss.

He released a sigh, clutching the drink to his blanketed chest. He really didn't need to think about that. It was ridiculous.

Besides, there were much more pressing things to consider.

One of which was the sleeping situation.

He and Daisuke had shared the bed again the previous night, this time with Daisuke against the wall. It had been tight, of course, but that hadn't been much of a problem. They didn't mind touching a little—their arms and legs pressed together or a hand brushing his hip—but once again, he'd woken up in Daisuke's arms.

Worst of all, it wasn't _Daisuke_ who was the cuddler.

No, Ken had been the one throwing himself into his friend's embrace, pushing so close Daisuke had been practically pinned to the wall.

Not that Daisuke had complained.

As they'd slowly woken up, Daisuke had simply murmured, "Good morning," and buried his face in Ken's hair with a pleased moan. Ken had been instantly awake, his body thrumming with heat and energy, but he hadn't the heart to get up, to pull away from Daisuke's warm body.

God, he was so screwed.

He knew he was screwed.

But he'd let Daisuke hold him anyway.

Because that's what he wanted more than anything, what he craved. That open affection was one of his favorite things about Daisuke, and Ken couldn't imagine anything he wanted more. Restraining only made his heart hurt more.

So he hadn't restrained himself, he hadn't hidden from what he wanted. And his heart had felt full, so warm and happy.

Even if he knew it wasn't sustainable.

Even if he knew he would get hurt in the long run.

Perhaps there was still a bit of a masochist in him.

Which was why it was utterly predictable that, when Daisuke flashed a smile at him in the dark of the cinema and threw an arm around his shoulders to drag him into what was surely meant to be a short-lived side-hug, Ken allowed himself to be moved. He relaxed against Daisuke's side, burrowing into the contact and resting his head on the comforting shoulder.

It was dark.

They were in the back of the theater.

No one would notice.

If Daisuke offered him a sip of his soda and hand-fed him popcorn, he allowed that too. Relished it even.

And if Daisuke rested his head against Ken's, well, that only made the movie better. Almost made it seem like they were truly alone.

*

Of course, they weren't alone.

After the movie, the trio made their way back to the Motomiyas' apartment, and although Daisuke hovered close to Ken, it was increasingly obvious they weren't alone. The easy way Wallace moved and interacted with Daisuke made that quite apparent.

"That was a little weird, right?" the American boy said, hands clasped behind his head as they walked. "I feel like you can't call it love if you're like five."

Normally, after they watched a movie, Daisuke would ramble about the contents, and Ken would listen to his disjointed analysis, enjoying his voice and the way his brain worked more than caring about the movie itself. He wouldn't say much because that wasn't his way, and Daisuke had never had a problem being the one to fill the void.

But with Wallace there, it felt increasingly like they were having a conversation and he was watching from the outside.

"Wait, what?" Daisuke sent him a frown. "There's an age limit on love?"

Wallace shrugged. "Not exactly. And okay, you can't really deny that Sosuke's love is pure—he's a child—but isn't the story a bit naive?"

Daisuke sent Ken a glance, brow still furrowed in displeasure, before turning back to Wallace. "It's a kids' story. A fairy tale."

"So it's exempt from criticism?"

"Okay, yeah, it's naive," he said with an irritated scoff. "That doesn't mean it can't be true. The movie never specified Sosuke's love had to be romantic— _that_ would be fucked up. It just had to be _true_ love. Of course children can feel that."

"Right." Wallace huffed. "I don't know why I'm surprised that you believe in true love like in the fairy tales. You probably believe in soulmates too, don't you?"

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?"

The blond sent him a skeptical glance. "You really are a simpleton."

Daisuke came to a sudden halt, and Ken stumbled to stop beside him. Wallace, though, had to pause a couple meters ahead and backtrack.

"I can't imagine not believing," Daisuke said, his voice soft as he placed his hand on his heart. "Love is the most powerful force on this earth, and as Chosen Children, we've used that power time and time again to fight the powers of darkness. You didn't go through as much as we did, but you should know that after everything that happened with Chocomon." His fingers dug into the T-shirt covering his chest.

Ken closed his eyes.

"If you'd seen the things that I've seen and felt the things that I've felt," his best friend continued, his voice falling into a softness he rarely used, "you'd believe too."

Sometimes, when Ken closed his eyes and focused with all his might, he could still hear Daisuke's heartbeat inside his head. He could still feel it thumping and pumping inside his chest, completely in tune with his own heart, their bodies and minds so in sync they acted as one.

If anything in the world could make him believe in true love and soulmates, it would be the feeling that swept through him during Jogress evolution.

If anyone could make him believe, it would be Daisuke.

Ken's throat tightened, and he took a quivering breath, trying to steady himself. Instead, he felt more shaken, more vulnerable than before.

When he forced his eyes open, Daisuke and Wallace were staring at him.

His best friend hovered close, head cocked. "You alright?"

Ken looked away. "Yeah, I think I just need…some space," he said slowly, his voice low and careful.

Daisuke didn't often understand his need to be alone, to focus on himself, as his beloved goggle boy didn't have to do that. Sure, he'd relax and do stuff on his own, but it usually involved the television or video games—he was constantly taking in more and more sensory input. Ken got the impression the only time Daisuke actually _stopped_ was when Ken made him.

But to his utter surprise, Daisuke nodded, mouth quirked to the side. "Need some alone time?" He seemed to consider it seriously before saying, "Do you want us to head back to the apartment without you? Give you some time to do whatever you want, no pressure?"

Ken met his pensive gaze, eyes sparkling with gratitude. All he could do was nod.

Daisuke stepped closer, mouth splitting into a soft smile, and laid his hand on Ken's shoulder. "Take however long you need."

Warmth rose in his chest, and he reached up to lay his hand over Daisuke's. "Thank you," he murmured.

A bright blush splashed across Daisuke's cheeks, and his eyes dropped to the ground. "No problem." He spread his fingers so they could lace together with Ken's and squeezed, even though his blush deepened.

Ken squeezed back.

*

The afternoon gave way to early evening, and Ken had enjoyed some alone time while exploring Odaiba. Inevitably, though, he wound up at the same park he and Daisuke often went to when he visited, and he sat under their designated tree to enjoy the shade and take in the view of the whole park.

Even in the late afternoon heat, there were plenty of people playing, and he watched, enjoying the soft breeze rustling his hair, as the other kids kicked around a ball, chased each other around, walked and chatted with friends.

It was refreshing, yes, but it didn't help sort the burgeoning emotions, hovering just below surface level.

The way Daisuke had held his hand to his heart when talking about love and soulmates _did things_ to Ken.

His head spun.

His heart beat faster.

And most of all, he wondered…

Did Daisuke have the same feelings about their Jogress experience?

They'd never spoken about it—not after Daisuke's initial attempt and Ken's prompt departure—so while he knew his best friend's immediate reaction, he had no idea how the memory of their Jogress experience affected Daisuke now.

Hell, he had no idea if Daisuke even thought about it.

They hadn't needed to do it for a while now, and Ken had to admit, he missed the surge of energy that pulsed through his body, reminding him he wasn't alone, that there was someone _with_ him so deeply, so intensely they might as well be one. Even if that someone was his best friend and only his best friend.

The experience was intimate to say the least, and that intimacy had always scared him, even as he had become more used to it.

Getting used to it meant it was something he could lose.

Now, the intimacy scared him for other reasons, and a small part of him was glad they hadn't had a need for Imperialdramon for a couple years.

Because the way the process affected him on an emotional, mental, and physical level…it reminded him of how he imagined sex would feel. As Daisuke had once said, it was a feeling of unity. Just as their Digimon fused together, so did he and Daisuke, even if it remained under the surface, even if you couldn't see it. Even the memory of that unity was overwhelming.

Especially when combined with Daisuke's explanation of why he believed in true love, in soulmates.

Ken forced himself to move again, to walk. He'd been on his own for hours now and he hadn't heard anything from Daisuke, but it definitely was time to get back. He was surprised he didn't have any emails when he looked at his phone; Wormmon, at the very least, had to be worried. And Daisuke…

Well, Daisuke would probably scold him for not eating anything for the last five hours.

Up ahead, Ken noticed a familiar shop and paused—it would be better to grab a small snack than attempt to lie to Daisuke about his eating habits.

The Ai-Mart was quiet when he pushed inside, but he smiled when a familiar voice greeted him in a rather monotonous tone—until she realized who it was.

"Ah, Ken-kun!" Miyako cried, jumping out from behind the counter. "What are you doing here? Why are you alone?"

He flashed her a soft smile as he perused the premade food options. "Oh, I just needed to get out for a little bit. When I saw the shop, I thought it would be nice to see if you were helping out."

"Every weekend now. More since it's break," she said, leaning against the cooler not far away. "You're still in Odaiba?"

Heat rose to his cheeks. "Ah, yes, Daisuke asked me to stay a little longer."

Miyako bit back a low peel of laughter. "Why am I not surprised?" Then she paused. "Wait, if you're staying with Daisuke still, why are you looking at _our_ snacks? Isn't Daisuke keeping you fed?"

"I've been on my own for much of the afternoon," he said, forcing his eyes to scan the options. "I needed some time to think."

"Wallace isn't being a pain, is he?"

Ken quirked an eyebrow at her.

"When we first met him, he was…" Her face scrunched up as she considered how to word it. "Let's just say, he really enjoyed irritating Daisuke. And you know Daisuke—he was super defensive, especially of us. He about had a heart attack when Wallace flirted with me and Hikari, but you know, I always got the impression he kept doing it just to mess with Daisuke."

Worrying his lip between his teeth, Ken finally grabbed some premade nigiri and turned his full attention to her. "Do you think he had a crush on Daisuke?" he asked in a small voice.

Miyako considered him a long moment before answering. "I don't know," she said slowly, "but Daisuke definitely had a crush on him."

He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Ken-kun," she said, reaching out for him but falling short, "that was _before_."

"Before what?"

"Before _you_."

He cast a skeptical glance in her direction before allowing his eyes to return to the sandwich in his hands and tried to reassure himself.

He'd already known Daisuke had had a crush on Wallace. It was obvious from the way he'd spoken about him, especially during the couple months leading up to the American boy's visit. He'd known, but the confirmation was still painful.

"Ken-kun," she said, trying to get his attention again, and her voice was low and solemn. "When we met him, you had just stopped being the Kaiser. We hadn't even seen you in the Digital World again." She paused, biting her lip. "Besides, Daisuke was still hung up on Hikari-chan."

He nodded. He supposed that did put it in perspective.

"And you know he hasn't been interested in Hikari-chan for a long time," Miyako added. "He hasn't been openly interested in anyone for years."

Ken allowed his eyes to close. "Miyako-san, _please_ …"

She sighed. "You know you're the one he—"

"Has he confided in you?"

His sharp words made her stop, eyes wide. "Well, no."

"Then please don't."

For a long time, Miyako stared at him, her eyes big and sad, then she nodded. "Okay."

"Am I really that obvious?" He slouched, cupping the sandwich to his chest.

She winced.

He took that as a yes.

"Why don't you tell him?"

Somehow, that was the easiest question she could've asked.

"Because," Ken said, looking up to meet her eyes again, "he's my oldest and best friend. If I sabotage that, I lose my best friend."

Miyako looked away, let her eyes fall shut. "Ken-kun, telling Daisuke you love him isn't sabotaging your friendship—"

"Can I pay for this now?" he asked loudly before she could say anything else.

She led the way back to the register, and he followed at her heels. They exchanged money and his receipt with strained smiles, and he gave her a parting wave before pushing the shop door open.

He had a long walk back to the Motomiyas' apartment complex, but obviously, he still had a lot to consider. He could eat his sandwich on the way.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Daisuke dies of Unresolved Sexual Tension, I refuse to be held accountable.

"Are we going to talk about whatever the hell that was earlier or not?"

Daisuke looked up from his water with curious eyes, and when he leaned forward to set the glass on the living room table, he took particular care not to wake Wormmon. The poor Digimon had been instantly concerned when they'd returned without Ken, and he'd curled up on Daisuke's lap once he'd explained Ken just needed space and would join them later.

Wallace stared back. "With Ken," he prompted.

"What about Ken?" he asked quietly.

The blond snorted. "Aside from the obvious?"

Daisuke shot him a scowl.

"You really don't have to drag me on all your dates, you know." Wallace sent him a meaningful look before V-mon and Terriermon, playing together near the balcony door, caught his attention. "If you two wanted to go cuddle in the back of a movie theater, you definitely could've done that without me."

He flushed. "That's not, that's not…"

And really, he hadn't _intended_ to cuddle Ken at the cinema, but when he'd hugged him, Ken had just sort of fallen into him and completely relaxed. How in the world could he say no to that? Why would he want to?

"It wasn't a date," he finally settled on.

Because even if they had cuddled in the back of the cinema, that didn't make it a date.

"No," Wallace agreed. "That would require you to actually ask him. And I'm still trying to figure out why you haven't. To be fair"—he snorted—"I'm still trying to figure out why you haven't just carried him to your bed and tearing his—"

"Stop that," Daisuke snapped. "Stop talking about him like he's—"

"Oh god, you really are hopeless." He stifled a laugh. "No wonder you haven't gotten laid."

Daisuke pursed his lips and let his hand slowly pet the caterpillar on his lap. "Not everything has to do with sex, you know."

"No, it doesn't." The blond smirked. "But I'm not sure you should be the person making that claim when I've seen the way you look at your best friend."

He should've really been used to being embarrassed and annoyed around Wallace by now, yet he flushed all the same. "Shut up."

"Speaking of everything not having to do with sex," Wallace said, watching as their Digimon wrestled on the floor with vigor, "you want to tell me what the hell your little speech was about?"

He frowned. "What speech?"

"You know, when you went on about true love and soulmates." He leaned back against the couch, hands behind his head, with an air of sarcasm.

Daisuke's flush only deepened. "What, did I not explain myself enough for you?"

Wallace stared at him, something working behind his eyes, until he finally said, "Tell me about Ken."

Well, that was a sudden subject change.

"Why?"

"Because I've spent three days with the guy and the only thing I know about him is how much he likes to cuddle you." Wallace cocked an eyebrow, as if challenging Daisuke to argue the point, and when no argument was raised, he continued. "He wasn't with you guys when you came to the US, but you act like he's been here since the beginning and you're very protective of him—and it's about more than how reserved he is. Obviously I'm missing something."

Daisuke bit his lip.

It was true, he'd never explained any of what had happened with Ken to Wallace. Even though Ken had been his best friend for years now, he'd barely mentioned him to Wallace at all. He'd preferred to keep them separate; they'd always been separate.

At first, he'd felt a little guilty—his stupid crush on Wallace had been prolonged by their continued communication, and bringing up Ken never felt right. But after his crush had faded to a general attraction, he held back stories about Ken because he hadn't wanted to share anything about Ken with anyone else. Ken was _his_ best friend, and their time together was special. Ken was special.

God, he'd been an idiot.

He'd had feelings for Ken for years now, and he hadn't even realized. How could he be so stupid?

"You know," Wallace said, catching his attention again, "if you don't tell me, I'll just ask everyone when we go to the beach this weekend. I'm sure any of them would be happy to tell me more about Ken."

A deep furrow formed in Daisuke's brow.

That was a good point—and frankly, he couldn't trust everyone else to give Ken his due. They'd open their mouths and spout off crap about him being the Kaiser, and really, that was hardly the most important part of the situation.

"Fine," he murmured, holding Wormmon close for comfort, his brown eyes downcast. "Look, we've all been through a lot—that goes hand in hand with being Chosen—but no one has been through nearly as much as Ken. He's the most gentle person you could ever meet, sweet and kind and tender, but he was vulnerable and the powers of darkness took advantage of him, used him." Daisuke's eyes fell shut. "He wasn't with us when we met you because I had to save him."

Wallace was oddly quiet as he took in the new information, and when he finally spoke, there was a weight to the words he rarely demonstrated. "What happened?"

Daisuke ran his hand over the caterpillar Digimon one more time, grateful it was sleeping and V-mon was distracted. "Oh, you know, the usual—getting manipulated by a tiny spiky ball and an evil Digimon into thinking the Digital World was a giant video game," he said in a small voice, punctuating the words with a hollow chuckle.

One look from his American friend silenced that uncomfortable laughter.

"After his brother died, he lost control. He did a lot of things Ken would never consider doing, and he still blames himself for that, even though he was literally brainwashed." He released a shaky sigh, and his eyes fell to the sweet creature on his lap. "Wormmon died to help rescue him."

Wallace looked like he wanted to say something—something important—but instead, he swallowed and said, "So that's why he didn't play video games with us the other day, huh?"

The unspoken words hung in the air. The heavy weight of Chocomon, of the Digi-Tama that had never hatched.

Wallace knew what it was like to lose your partner Digimon, and he knew what it was like to feel responsible for damage, even when it wasn't actually your fault. Wallace could understand a part of Ken that Daisuke could only see from an outside perspective.

Of course, that outside perspective was too often necessary.

Ken didn't see himself clearly, least of all his time as the Digimon Kaiser. He didn't say it, but a part of him still blamed himself for actions that were primarily out of his control, for doing things he never would've ordinarily done, and there didn't seem to be a therapist in the world who could fully convince him otherwise.

Thankfully, his therapist did seem to be able to help with some of his darker thoughts—Ken called them suicidal ideations. Daisuke wasn't sure what the hell an _ideation_ was, but the word _suicidal_ told him more than enough.

Not that Daisuke would mention that to Wallace. Or anyone.

As far as he knew, Hikari was the only other person who knew Ken still attended therapy. Ken intended to keep it that way, and Daisuke would never betray his trust. He wasn't sure he was capable of it.

Their bond was deep to say the least. Daisuke had felt Ken's heart the moment he'd touched the Golden Digimental, he'd known Ken to his core, and that bond had only increased and expanded when XV-mon and Stingmon had first Jogress-evolved. Because that time, not only had he felt Ken's heart pulsing through his body, but Ken had felt his too. That connection was impossible to fake, impossible to replicate, impossible to break.

"What are you thinking about?"

Daisuke blinked, clearing his vision, and caught Wallace's curious gaze. "Oh, I was just thinking about Jogress."

Wallace frowned. "What's that?"

He stared—it took a moment to remind himself that that term had been coined by Koushiro; it wasn't something everyone knew. "Right," he said with a laugh. "Our Digimon can evolve together. Koushiro calls it Jogress evolution."

"What were you thinking about it?"

He bit his lip. "It's just a very powerful feeling."

"It makes you feel powerful?" Wallace asked, brow furrowed.

"No, no. I mean, it's really…overwhelming, I guess." God, he was only talking about Jogress, but he could feel the heat rising to his face. "When Ken and I…when our Digimon evolve, it's like we can feel each other. I know when he's going to go left, and he knows when I'm going to go right, and it just _works_. It's like we're so in sync that we're _one_ , and we understand each other on a cosmic level."

" _Oh_ …"

Daisuke's eyes flashed open at that tone, and he turned wide eyes on his friend. "Oh?"

A smirk tugged at Wallace's lips, and he crossed one leg over the other, the picture of relaxation. " _That's_ what you were talking about earlier."

He released a frustrated groan. "Will you be straight for once?"

Suddenly, there was a large shadow blocking the light from the balcony. Only a meter or two away, a grinning Terriermon was sitting atop V-mon's head, its ears spread like wings, casting a large shadow across them. "Wallace is never straight," Terriermon announced happily.

Wallace rolled his eyes, and when he turned back to Daisuke, he nodded downward.

Only then did Daisuke realize he'd been holding his hand over his heart.

"So when you were talking about true love and soulmates, when you were explaining how you've _felt_ things I couldn't understand," Wallace said, smugness lacing his voice, "you meant Jogress. You meant you and Ken."

A deep red blush spread across his cheeks, and he tucked his arm back around Wormmon. "It's not like we're the only ones to experience Jogress evolution."

Wallace cocked an eyebrow. "Does anyone else describe Jogress like they've just had the best sex of their life?"

Daisuke's jaw dropped open. "What?"

The blond laughed. "Come on. You can _feel_ each other? You understand each other on a _cosmic_ level? You're so in sync you're _one_?" He shook his head, amusement mixing with annoyance. "God, if you think having your Digimon evolve together feels that good, you need to expand your horizons."

"What? No," he spluttered. "Jogress isn't—it's _nothing_ like sex. Don't say that."

Wallace shook his head. "It's not like you'd know, though, right?" But he didn't pause for an answer. "Besides, you didn't deny that you were thinking about Ken and your Jogress thingy while talking about soulmates."

Daisuke crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought you didn't believe in soulmates."

"I don't." And there was that stupid smirk again. "But you—as a completely hopeless romantic—do. You think Ken's your soulmate."

The Digimon, infinitely curious, had inched closer, and Terriermon jumped to the couch beside Wallace, cuddling close to its human partner.

But V-mon came close, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Daisuke, does that mean Wormmon is _my_ soulmate?"

He opened and closed his mouth, then opened it again. "I, uh…what about Tailmon?"

His partner jumped up on the couch beside him and leaned into his arm. "Tailmon's great, but Wormmon is my partner too, like how Ken is yours." V-mon's face split into a big grin. "Besides, Wormmon likes you a lot more than Tailmon does."

The fact that Wormmon was still curled up in his lap, though his eyes had opened sometime during their conversation, was testament to that—and to how much Wormmon trusted him. Tailmon never would've sat in his lap, let alone slept there.

Daisuke bit his lip. "I mean, I guess that's up to Wormmon."

Wormmon shifted on his lap, readjusting, but before it could respond, the front door opened.

Down the hallway, the door was out of view, but Daisuke knew who it was from the quiet sounds and the soft feet padding on the floor. "Daisuke? Wormmon?"

The caterpillar Digimon, of course, had already jumped from his lap and ran down the hallway to greet its partner, and Daisuke wasn't far behind.

Ken met them halfway down the hallway in front of the door to his parents' bedroom, a tender smile on his face as Wormmon dove into his arms. His eyes sparkled as he met Daisuke's gaze, and his smile widened. "Sorry I took so long."

Daisuke shook his head. "Don't apologize."

"Well, I'm afraid I worried you." Ken's eyes shifted down to his Digimon, who was soaking up the cuddles and returning them tenfold. "Sorry, Wormmon."

"Daisuke was worried too," Wormmon said quietly. "You should have emailed."

Ken turned his intense eyes on Daisuke again. "You could've emailed me too, you know," he murmured.

He scratched the nape of his neck, looking anywhere but Ken's burning gaze. "I didn't want to bother you. You wanted space, right?"

His best friend worried his lip, then took a tentative step closer and laid a hand on Daisuke's wrist. "Daisuke, you're _never_ a bother. I need you to remember that."

The firm, powerful tone struck Daisuke mute. His heart stuttered, his mouth went dry, and his breath caught in his throat. When he couldn't speak, he twisted his arm so he could grab Ken's hand and entwine their fingers, and he nodded.

Ken smiled again, and this time, it was wide and bright and perfect.

Daisuke squeezed his hand tighter, like it was a lifeline. "Have you…?" He cleared his throat, forcing the words through the ache in his throat. "You hungry? Have you eaten?"

The smile softened. "I grabbed something small, but I'm not hungry." His eyes darted toward the end of the hallway. "Actually, I know it's not that late, but I'm tired."

"You want to go to bed?" Daisuke started walking, practically dragging his best friend down the hallway. "That's cool. We can go to bed."

"What? You can stay up…"

He cast a glance over his shoulder and nearly walked into the wall—Ken was blushing prettily. "I don't mind," he said, continuing toward his bedroom. "If you want to go to bed, we'll go to bed."

Daisuke pushed the bedroom door open all the way and flicked on the light. He only let go of Ken's hand when he pulled away to set Wormmon on the bed and go through his bag as the Digimon curled up with V-mon and waited patiently. Daisuke watched as he pulled out his pajamas, then quickly turned to the dresser inside his closet to grab his own.

 _Ahem_ , _ahem_.

He turned toward the door, eyes wide, where an amused Wallace was leaning against the door frame.

"I feel like you forgot something," the American boy said, amusement tinging his voice.

Daisuke laughed, trying to ignore the sudden anxiety. "Sorry, sorry. Ken wants to go to sleep."

Wallace raised an eyebrow. "Already? It's like eight o'clock."

"You don't have to go to bed yet," Daisuke immediately said. "I mean, unless you want to. If you're tired, go right ahead."

Wallace stifled his laughter. "Just, uh, don't forget to lay out the futon for me, yeah? I don't think I'll be tired for a while, and I don't want to wake you two later."

He nodded. "Yeah. Right. Of course."

Ken was sifting through the contents of his bag again, purposefully avoiding the conversation, and Wallace took the opportunity to blatantly point at him and make stupid kissy faces until Daisuke chucked a manga volume at his head.

"Hey!" He barely managed to knock the book out of the way. "Throwing things isn't very nice."

"You're not very nice," Daisuke snapped, and he wore a scowl as he tore off his T-shirt and dropped it in his laundry hamper.

Wallace rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah…" He paused as Ken rose from the floor and left the room, head tucked low. "Seriously," he continued in a low voice once he was sure Ken had disappeared into the bathroom, "when are you going to—?"

"Will you mind your own business," Daisuke growled. He turned away to take off his cargo shorts and tossed them into the hamper as well. "We're friends, just friends. He's my _best_ friend."

The blond boy sighed but crossed the distance to lean against the dresser. "So if you're _just friends_ , you're open to flirting, right?" He lifted a hand to trace over Daisuke's bare shoulder—Daisuke inhaled sharply at the contact. "You're definitely attracted to me, and if there's nothing between you and Ken, you have no reason to hold back." His fingers curved over to the sharp angles of his collarbone. "And Ken definitely wouldn't be jealous to see this, right?"

But Daisuke knocked his hand away. "Stop trying to make your stupid point."

Wallace grinned. "Why? Because you don't want Ken to walk in on me touching you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I just don't want you to touch me."

"Ah." Wallace laughed as he turned away. "You're a tease."

"What?"

He was already halfway out the door, but he paused, hand on the frame, and looked back. "Oh, come on, Daisuke. You can't walk around like _that_ , knowing I'm attracted to you, and expect me not to want to touch."

"Shut up!" The flush rose to his cheeks, and he turned away.

"Really, don't you—oh, hey, Ken." Wallace's tone was sickly sweet. "You ready for bed?" Then, after a short pause: "But you're still dressed."

"Yes," Ken said in a quiet voice, "I forgot to grab my pajamas."

Wallace laughed. "Well, don't let me get in the way, you two. Have a good night."

The door closed.

Daisuke threw a glance over his shoulder.

Wallace was gone, the door was latched shut, and a silently surprised Ken stood not far away, his mouth hanging slightly open.

He turned and wetted his lips. "God, he's weird, right? It's not just me?"

Ken sent him a small amused smile.

Then froze.

A soft blush spread over his cheeks as he took in the view—Daisuke still hadn't managed to put on his pajamas—but he didn't look away.

Daisuke cleared his throat. "So, um, you still need to change, right?"

Ken nodded, barely managing to tear his eyes away from Daisuke's half-naked body, and stumbled over to his bag again, where the pajamas sat folded on top. He grabbed the clothes and, clutching them to his chest, glanced at the shut door.

But to Daisuke's surprise, he set the pajamas on the mattress and slowly tugged the hem of his V-neck tee up, up, up and over his head.

Daisuke tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

Then, Ken's hands settled on the waist of his sexy Bermuda shorts, and Daisuke couldn't breathe anymore. Not that that stopped Ken from undoing the button and tugging the zipper tab all the way down, and then he nudged the sleek shorts over his pert ass and down his slender legs, and then Ken was only wearing his underwear.

And Daisuke was definitely staring.

He stared when Ken leaned over the bed and folded his day clothes.

And he stared when Ken stretched his back and muffled a yawn with his hand.

And he was still staring when Ken, still flushed a lovely pink, paused in the middle of flattening out his pajama shirt to look at him. His blush deepened, and he looked down, tucking a strand of luscious black hair behind his ear.

Oh, fuck.

Why did Ken have to be so pretty?

And why the hell was it so fucking hot in here?

Daisuke forced his eyes shut and turned back to the closet.

Right, he needed to put out the futon now.

He tugged on his pajama pants, then busied himself with getting the futon out and spread out for Wallace when he came in to sleep. By the time he finished, Ken was sitting atop the bed, wearing a set of deep purple pajamas that were too big for him.

Jeez, why did Ken have to be so goddamn cute _in addition_ to being that pretty?

That was it.

The world was definitely against him.

"Ready for sleep?" he tried to ask, but the words came out scratchy and raw and he had to say it again.

Ken nodded.

Daisuke's eyes had to adjust after he turned off the light, and he shuffled around the futon to sit on the edge of the bed. "Which side do you want?"

"The wall's fine," Ken murmured, and he scooted over, his back to the room, and pulled a half-asleep Wormmon up to his chest.

Daisuke settled beside him, breath quivering. V-mon was already out at the foot of the bed, and he had to maneuver his feet to slide close to Ken's so he didn't kick the dragon Digimon off the mattress. He shifted onto his side, curling around Ken but not quite touching him, and tried to relax.

Which was apparently impossible.

Not that Ken seemed to be falling asleep anytime soon based on his tense shoulders.

He licked his lips. "Hey, Ken," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Do you feel better? Did getting space help?"

Ken didn't say anything, and the tension in his shoulders hadn't faded.

"Oh." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

A soft laugh reverberated off the wall. "Don't apologize for something out of your control, Daisuke."

"I know." He scooted closer, still just barely not touching. "But I want you to be happy. I want to see you smile. I love your smile."

_I love you._

Ken's shoulders trembled. "Daisuke…"

"What do you need?" he asked, probably a little too eager. "Anything."

"Will you hold me?"

Knowing Ken, he probably thought his own voice sounded pathetic, but he couldn't feel the way Daisuke's chest contracted and ached at the words.

There was no need to confirm with speech. Instead, Daisuke closed the remaining distance between them; he slipped one arm under the pillow, and Ken lifted his head enough for it to slide comfortably under his neck, and his left arm wrapped around Ken's middle, narrowly avoiding Wormmon, and pulled their bodies flush.

He buried his face into Ken's soft hair, taking a deep puff of the floral scent, and shifted so he could murmur in Ken's ear until he finally relaxed enough to fall asleep. "Everything's okay, Ken," he said. "I'm here, and I'll always be here. I've got you."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step forward, two steps back?

How easily Ken snuggled closer to the hot body pressed against him was a testament to the fact that he was getting far too used to sharing the bed with Daisuke. And that would be worrying if he weren't so damn comfortable.

Hot skin scalded his fingers, and he clenched his hand, trying to get closer. He slotted their legs together, soaking in the warmth, and released a pleased sigh at the extended contact. The fact that there were fingers combing through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, only made the whole process better.

"Good morning," Daisuke whispered.

He hummed in response, but his heavy eyes refused to open.

Of course, he preferred it that way. Until he opened his eyes, he could pretend this was normal. He could pretend he and Daisuke slept together all the time, that he could spend the rest of his life waking up to Daisuke's arms wrapped around him. He could pretend that Daisuke was in love with him.

Daisuke's hand cupped his cheek. "Wake up, Ken. We can't stay in bed forever."

He wetted his lips. "Yes, we can."

"You're going home tonight after we go out for dinner," he said, and when he slid his fingers back into Ken's hair, they trembled.

Ken took a deep breath and forced his eyes open—Daisuke's warm brown orbs were watching him intently. "You can ask me to stay."

"Stay. Please."

A wan smile spread across his lips. "How long?"

"Forever," Daisuke said with a laugh, like it was a joke—but that didn't stop Ken from wanting it to be true. Then, he added, more seriously, "How long can you stay?"

Ken shifted back, putting a little space between them to think. "Actually, I have my appointment tomorrow afternoon. I can't stay."

Disappointment flashed through Daisuke's eyes, but he nodded.

He really shouldn't get used to this anyway. Once classes started again in a month, he wouldn't be able to spend every night with Daisuke—only the weekends. Breaks were the only time they were able to immerse themselves so fully in each other's space.

Then, Daisuke's arm wrapped around his rib cage and pulled him back to his chest, noses bumping painfully.

Ken's eyes clenched shut, and he scrunched up his face, willing the pain to pass.

"Sorry," Daisuke said, but he didn't pull back, didn't release him, didn't even loosen his grip. "Can we just stay in bed for a little bit longer?"

That made Ken open his eyes again, and he raised a sleek eyebrow. "I thought we had to get up?" he whispered.

Daisuke's warm brown eyes met his, but they didn't feel particularly strong right now. There was a quiet vulnerability in their depths, unspoken and desperately wanting to remain so.

Ken watched the emotions flicker through those orbs and allowed his eyes to fall shut and his body to relax. "Okay." The word was barely a whisper, though it didn't need to be any louder with their proximity. "We can stay."

A breath of relief slipped from Daisuke's mouth, and the breeze fluttered over Ken's skin—he had to repress the shiver that flew down his spine.

For whatever reason, Daisuke needed the physical contact right now, needed the comfort, and Ken would do anything to comfort him, to reassure him. Daisuke had spent so long being there for him in his time of need; it was only right he return the favor.

Besides, he had no complaints about the contact, about Daisuke's rough fingers continuing to stroke his face and hair. It was the way he often comforted Ken when he was upset, and Ken's heart ached at the thought that, perhaps, comforting him in turn comforted Daisuke.

He would take that and return it without hesitation.

Ken's fingers began a slow path up and down Daisuke's back under his night-shirt, tracing his spine, slowly circling the vertebrae as he went. He couldn't say the words, but he poured every shred of affection into his touch, willing Daisuke to feel it and accept it.

With their bodies so firmly pressed together and intertwined, he could feel every curve, every twitch, every flex through their thin pajamas, and that wasn't a problem until Daisuke shifted his leg and brushed Ken's groin.

A sharp gasp escaped Ken's lips.

Daisuke tensed.

Ken froze.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

His heart was hammering in his chest, and he could feel Daisuke's doing the same. That gasp couldn't exactly be attributed to anything but the feel of Daisuke's thigh pressing against him—and dear god, it was still there, still squished between his legs.

He could only hope his body wouldn't react to the contact. Or at least not more than it already was, considering their bodies were still flush together. If they shifted just slightly…

Ken couldn't breathe.

Really, how could he be expected to?

His best friend's leg was shoved between his thighs, pressed against his groin, and it was impossible for his body not to respond—and impossible for Daisuke not to notice. His hand was still up the back of Daisuke's shirt, and Daisuke's fingers were still entwined in his hair, and their faces, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, were still so close he could feel Daisuke's stuttering breath on his lips.

It would take no effort at all to close the distance between them and cover his mouth with a kiss. To demand his lips demonstrate the attraction pulsing through Ken's body.

"Ken?"

He wetted his lips. "Yeah?"

Daisuke's hand clenched, tugging on his hair. "Ken…"

His breath trembled. "Daisuke."

"Can I…?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, do you—?"

"Yes?" Ken asked, trying desperately not to sound too eager. His eyes flashed open, and the air caught in his throat.

Daisuke was watching him intently, eyes blown wide, lips parted. "I want…"

He swallowed. "Yes, Daisuke?"

The brown orbs darted from his eyes to his mouth, then back. "I—"

The door opened.

Daisuke tore away from him, throwing himself onto his back, hands behind his head, one leg bent, knee lifting off the mattress. Ken moved away too, burying himself in a heap of blankets by the wall, hiding his pink cheeks under the sheets.

"Well, good morning," Wallace said, leaning against the door frame, bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement. A smirk played on his lips. "Something wrong, guys?"

"No," Daisuke said quickly, voice cracking, face flushed, and he cleared his throat. "No, not at all. Time to get up, right?" He rolled off the bed and rushed past the blond and out the door without waiting for a response.

When he was gone, Wallace turned his full attention to the bundle of blankets remaining on the bed. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Ken muttered, though his raw voice sounded loud in the quiet bedroom.

Wallace's smirk widened. "Oh, I'm sure you did."

His pink cheeks brightened.

"You two always look so cozy when I get up in the morning." He grinned. "You know, I wonder… Are all best friends _that_ comfortable with each other? I can't imagine touching someone that much and having it be platonic." But when Ken pulled the blanket up over his crimson cheeks, Wallace added, "Or have you two been doing some _actual_ touching?"

The blanket was not enough to hide his shame.

"Oh?" Wallace crossed the threshold, curiosity etched on what little of his face Ken could see. "Why, Ken, is that a yes? God, Daisuke's never going to live this down."

He clenched his jaw and finally tugged the covers away. "No, it's not," he snapped. "And even if it were, it's none of your business."

The American boy cocked an eyebrow and came to a stop a meter from the bed. "So you _can_ get angry."

Ken shot him a scowl.

"Honestly, it's kind of hot." Wallace moved closer and dropped onto the edge of the bed. "But you already know how attractive you are, don't you?"

He averted his eyes when the blond leaned in. "What are you talking about?" 

"Oh, Ken, you're so naive." Wallace reached out a hand, stopping short of grabbing a few strands of silky black hair. "Don't you know all your friends want you?"

Against his will, he could feel the pressure of Daisuke, of his best friend's arousal digging into his thigh. But this was hardly the time to get carried away.

Ken's eyes narrowed. "And you?"

He smirked. "Well, let's just say I'm the only one with the confidence to actually do anything about it." He pressed his fingers close to trace his cheek, but Ken shied away from the contact. "Ah, you're too obvious. You'd never touch me. Not when you're dead set on Daisuke, right?"

Jaw clenched, cheeks pink again, Ken remained silent.

Wallace leaned close, his face only a few centimeters away, and Ken was trapped against the wall. "If you change your mind, I'm more than willing to show you how it's done."

" _What's going on?_ "

Wallace turned partway to look at Daisuke, standing in the open doorway. "We were just having a discussion," he said with a playful lilt. "Why? What's going on with you?"

Ken could barely see Daisuke over Wallace's shoulder, but he wasn't going to give up this opportunity. With Wallace distracted, he slipped out from the covers and off the bed, barely able to maneuver around their American guest, to grab a fresh set of clothes from his bed.

He didn't look at Daisuke as he scurried past, but Daisuke wasn't watching him—he was staring at Wallace.

"Is something wrong?" Wallace asked, sounding nowhere near as innocent as he pretended.

By the time Daisuke responded, Ken had already locked himself in the bathroom.

*

The table was small, but there weren't any larger ones available. The trio was squished together, their knees bumping and brushing underneath, and Daisuke cast a hesitant glance toward Ken.

His best friend sat across from him per usual, chin tucked, eyes downcast to emphasize his long lashes, a curtain of shiny black hair falling in his face—avoiding eye contact.

But Ken had avoided looking at him all day.

He wouldn't look at him while they were watching TV. He wouldn't look at him while they were hanging out at the park. He wouldn't look at him while they were playing cards or while they were just lounging around the living room chatting. He wouldn't look at him while they were cooking or putting away laundry or washing the dishes. Any time their eyes had met, Ken had looked away.

And that was true now too.

Ken chanced a look up, but when he caught Daisuke staring, it wasn't Daisuke who looked away blushing. That was definitely Ken: He flushed prettily as he tried to hide his face in his luxurious hair, eyes studying the table.

It was legitimately unfair how beautiful Ken was. He made shyness and embarrassment look soft and stunning, from his pink-tinged cheeks to the way he nibbled his lip to his delicate fingers tapping against the tabletop while they waited for the mountains of food Daisuke had ordered upon their arrival.

Wallace cleared his throat.

"Huh?" Daisuke jolted, turning to look at his friend. "What's up?"

The blond merely raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod toward Ken, a questioning look in his sparkling blue eyes.

He bit his lip.

Whatever Wallace was trying to communicate wasn't making it across the void, and he really didn't know how to respond when he didn't understand the question in the first place.

But when he glanced over, his best friend was still blushing and chewing his lip.

Fuck, he wanted to kiss Ken.

It didn't matter that they were in the middle of a restaurant or sitting with Wallace. All that mattered was Ken, and Daisuke desperately wanted to kiss him. He would have this morning if they hadn't been interrupted.

That was probably for the best, though.

"Sooo…" Wallace tapped his index finger on the table, irritation lacing his voice. "When you guys normally do this, do you really order half the menu? For two people?"

Ken shrugged, still avoiding eye contact.

"Of course," Daisuke said, trying not to be distracted by silky black hair and creamy skin and flushed cheeks. "We, uh, have to try everything we can, right? Besides, it's fun to watch each other react to the different flavors."

Although, he spent more time lately just watching Ken enjoy the food: He got this look on his face when it was particularly good. Like last week when Ken had tried that futomaki and his entire face had lit up as he gazed across the table through long luscious lashes, eyes hazy with pleasure. And that didn't even account for the soft, delicate way Ken nibbled at the food or how his tongue had darted out to lap up the sauce on his pink lips.

Daisuke was fucked.

"Oh?" Wallace said—and there was that singsong tone, the one that said he was teasing him somehow. "Is _that_ the part that's fun?"

Ken's eyes darted toward him, then immediately away, and his cheeks darkened considerably.

Really, though, what in the world did Ken have to be ashamed of?

If he was embarrassed about this morning—and he had to be considering that's when he'd stopped looking at Daisuke for more than half a second—well, he couldn't blame Ken for that.

But really, Daisuke had been the one begging to kiss him.

Or he would've been if he'd managed to get the words out.

Daisuke bit his lip. "Of course, the food is good too. It's cool to try all the different foods, right, Ken?"

Ken didn't look at him, but he inclined his head in assent.

When the food arrived, at least half a dozen large bowls of steaming ramen were spread over the tabletop, and Daisuke was buzzing with excitement.

Eating was definitely his favorite part. He got to eat yummy foods and share them with Ken. He loved watching Ken's eyes as the flavors surprised him, and better than anything was the soft blush that spread across his cheeks when Daisuke held out something for him to try and he leaned forward to taste the food from Daisuke's chopsticks.

Ramen wasn't conducive to sharing like a lot of the foods they tried were, but that had never stopped the two of them before. Okay, actually sharing a bowl wasn't difficult, but it was a lot harder to feed Ken without making a huge mess everywhere; Ken hated getting messy while eating.

Not that Ken would want him to feed him right now anyway.

Daisuke eyed the nearest bowl of ramen with a frown. It was a shio ramen with succulent slices of chashu, a small rectangular sheet of nori, and some menma, the scent of fermentation hidden by the chicken and dashi broth. But the fact that Ken wouldn't even look at him, let alone share a bowl with him, made the prospect of eating at one of his favorite ramen shops far less appealing than normal.

He picked up his spoon and took a long drink of the broth first, savoring the taste. It was good—better than the last time they'd eaten there. The chef must've improved the recipe.

"Okay, what am I eating here?" Wallace asked, skeptical, as he stared at the nearest bowl, full of a colorful ramen.

"That's the vegan one," Daisuke said, pointing out the missing egg between bites of chashu. "It's vegetable broth, wheat noodles, and whatever vegetables are in season. Oh, plus the lotus root. You should try it. Ken loves that one."

Wallace shot their quiet friend a glance. "Really?"

Ken gave a half-nod, but he had grabbed one of the bowls from the middle of the table and was munching on their cold summer ramen. Nice and refreshing for the hot evening air.

"Hey, Ken?" Daisuke murmured.

His best friend stilled.

Daisuke nudged his bowl imperceptibly closer to the middle of the table. "You should really try this one. They changed something about the shio broth; I can't pinpoint what. And the chashu—you should taste the chashu."

Ken worried his lip, then set his spoon on the table and leaned forward, opening his mouth slightly.

His heart stuttered.

He hadn't expected Ken to just part his perfect lips like that, to lean forward and wait for him to spoon the broth into his mouth, to feed him.

Daisuke swallowed hard and lifted a spoonful of the broth with some noodles to Ken's open mouth. His hand was quivering, but it was well worth the effort when Ken, eyes shut, wrapped his lips around the spoon and sucked the contents into his mouth.

Ken swirled the broth around his mouth, a little crease between his eyebrows as he concentrated, and then he swallowed with the same delicate precision he used for everything in his life. His pink tongue slipped out to wet his lips, and he released a pleased sigh.

"Fuck."

Daisuke snapped out of his reverie to see Wallace was also watching Ken, eyes blown wide, mouth agape—he sent a sharp kick to his American friend's shin and snapped, "Eat," when Wallace turned to him with a glare.

Not that Daisuke could disagree with the sentiment.

"You're right, they changed something," Ken said thoughtfully, then his eyes hovered on the bowl between them.

Right. Daisuke had wanted him to try the chashu too.

He switched to his chopsticks and grabbed a slice of the pork belly, and when Ken tasted it, cheeks tinged pink again, a soft moan rumbled in his throat.

Daisuke was dead, he was sure of it.

Why else did his heart stop at the sound?

Then electricity shot through his body, starting up his heart and head again, and he forced himself to look down at his food instead of stare at the warm flush on Ken's cheeks or the way his bleary eyes fluttered open after swallowing.

God, Daisuke was so fucked. He was head over heels, and he was so fucked.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update. The month of 5+1s was distracting...

The bed was empty.

Okay.

Well, not empty. Daisuke was in it.

But for the past four nights, Ken had been curled up with him, and tonight, he was gone.

Daisuke couldn't get comfortable. Couldn't stop picturing the pink flush on Ken's cheeks as he'd let Daisuke feed him. Couldn't stop hearing the moan of pleasure as he'd tasted Daisuke's food. Couldn't stop remembering holding Ken against him and barely restraining himself from begging to kiss those perfect lips. He couldn't get comfortable _without Ken_.

He shifted in the dark room and stretched to reach his phone on the desk. His fingers closed around the device, and he brought it to his chest.

But it had only been a couple hours since he'd seen Ken.

The ramen shop wasn't too far away, and Ken had had to come back with them to grab his things and Wormmon before heading home to Tamachi. Daisuke and Wallace had walked him to the train station, then returned to the apartment and played some video games before going to bed.

With so little time since they'd last spoken, since they'd last seen each other, since they'd last touched, would Ken want to talk to him all that much?

Besides, after dinner…well, Daisuke had no idea where they stood.

Ken had been so anxious at the ramen shop, awkwardly fluctuating between two extremes. One minute, he'd lean forward for Daisuke to feed him, and the next, he'd hide his face beneath his silky hair, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks, and refuse to look at Daisuke at all.

If Ken had avoided looking at him all day, why would he want to talk to him?

Daisuke didn't lift the phone and send the email he so desperately wanted to send. Instead, he sighed.

"You still awake?"

He cast a glance toward the futon below, where Wallace reclined, his hands tucked under his head, one leg sticking out of the blanket, eyes shut, and frowned. "Yeah, so?"

Wallace's eyes blinked open, and he smirked. "You're usually out pretty quickly," he said, "but now it's been...what, like forty-five minutes? And you're still not asleep?" He chuckled.

Daisuke pursed his lips. Per usual, he didn't like the direction this conversation was going.

"Can't sleep without cuddling your boyfriend?"

"Ken isn't—"

"Your boyfriend? Yeah, I know." Wallace let out a short burst of laughter. "It's painfully obvious he isn't your boyfriend. I can only hope that if you two were dating, you wouldn't be such a hot mess."

Daisuke glared. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're a hot mess."

"I am—"

Wallace cocked an eyebrow in the dark room. "Daisuke, I don't know how to tell you this, but you're a disaster. Like, a complete and utter disaster."

"Oh, like you have room to talk," he snapped.

"Hey, I'm not the one trying to decide whether to message him…"

Okay, that was fair.

"For what it's worth," Wallace added, "you two are pretty cute. Which is exactly why I had to document the fact."

Wait, what?

Daisuke rolled onto his side to get a better view of the futon below, his phone still clutched in his hand. "Document?"

Wallace sat up with a grin and snatched up his phone. After a moment of flicking through things, he turned the device around to show off a photo of Daisuke and Ken sleeping in the early morning light, their bodies so intertwined he could barely tell whose limb was whose.

Oh.

Well, that was embarrassing.

He dropped back onto the mattress, hand clamped tight around his phone, and released a resigned sigh. "When did you take that?"

"Hmm, this morning." Wallace paused. "You seemed particularly clingy—more than every other morning."

Dammit.

A scowl spread across his lips, and Daisuke tried to curb his irritation. Even in his sleep, he'd been desperate for Ken to stay, scared what he'd do without Ken at his side and in his arms.

Of course, now that Ken had gone home, his fears were realized.

He had no idea what to do without Ken murmuring goodnight in his ear, curling up close so Daisuke could snake his arms around him and hold him close. And then, dear god, there were moments like this morning, when Ken had been wrapped around him so thoroughly, so eagerly, his delicate fingers rubbing up and down Daisuke's back…and Daisuke had been so overwhelmed by the touch that he'd almost done something stupid.

"I don't know what to do," he mumbled.

"Hmm? What was that?"

He cast a glance down toward Wallace, an uncomfortable feeling twisting in his stomach. "If I don't figure out what to do," he said more seriously, "I'm going to wind up doing something stupid and impulsive."

Wallace snorted. "So like every other day?"

Daisuke gritted his teeth. "I'm trying to be serious."

He sighed, exasperated. "Being serious doesn't suit you, Daisuke." He lay back, stretching his arms above his head. "If you're this uncomfortable sleeping alone, you could always invite _me_ up there, you know."

His stomach dropped, but he still bit out, "Sleeping alone isn't the problem—it's sleeping without Ken." Heat rose to his cheeks, and he twisted away, burying his face in his pillow, using the safety of the wall to hide.

On the floor, Wallace snorted. "Of course it is, you big dummy." The words weren't unkind—affection even ran through his tone. "Goodnight, Daisuke."

Daisuke hummed a quiet response, but he was far too distracted.

His pillow smelled like Ken.

His whole bed smelled like Ken.

And it might not have been that distracting if he didn't know the scent so well, if he didn't know it so intimately. If it weren't a stark reminder of the fact that Ken was ten kilometers away in Tamachi tonight instead of wrapped up in his arms.

Fuck.

At this rate, he was definitely going to do something stupid.

The phone was still in his hand, buried under the pillow now, and he pulled it out, careful to keep it close to hide the light when he flicked it on and opened his conversation with Ken.

The last email was from several days ago, from the day Ken had shown up late to their movie night.

Daisuke chewed his lip and typed out, _Just wanted to say goodnight._ He spent a long time flipping back and forth on whether it was a good idea to add, _I miss you._

He deleted the words before sending it.

Then, he dropped the phone onto the mattress and tried to relax enough to sleep, finally.

Ken had probably passed out an hour ago or more. He went to sleep pretty early, aside from nights he spent here, of course. He always humored Daisuke, staying up until he could barely keep his eyes open despite Daisuke's repeated suggestions to go to sleep.

And well, Daisuke couldn't complain since Ken was so damn cute when he got all relaxed and sleepy. He was far more affectionate, leaning into his touches and touching in return, his lips curling up in that soft, sweet smile, his blue-violet eyes warm and happy and sparkling.

The bed vibrated.

Wait.

Why was Ken awake? It was past midnight.

 _Are you just going to bed?_ the email said.

Daisuke bit his lip. _We've been in bed for a bit. Been talking._ Then, he sent a second one: _Why are you still awake? This is pretty late for you._

The response took a little longer this time, but after a couple minutes, Ken said, _I can't sleep._

He held the phone to his heart, uncertain. It would be easy to admit he couldn't sleep either, but that felt just shy of too open, too vulnerable.

His chest ached.

The last four nights, Ken had slept so easily beside him. He hadn't had trouble falling asleep, hadn't woken throughout the night, hadn't even had nightmares, which still came and went pretty often. Every night they'd shared this bed, Ken had been comfortable, peaceful. What had changed?

Was it possible Ken couldn't fall asleep because he missed Daisuke as much as Daisuke missed him? Or was that just wishful thinking?

Daisuke's throat was thick with hesitation, emotion. But emailing didn't require speech, and he sent, _Me too,_ before he lost his nerve. Before he couldn't justify sending the email.

From his bed on the floor, Wallace released a quiet snore, slow and steady. He was already asleep.

 _I wish I could talk to you,_ he emailed Ken.

God, he was tired. And he'd probably regret sending that in the morning when he was actually awake.

The phone vibrated again.

 _You could call me. I wouldn't mind_.

He'd never pulled up his contact information so quickly in his life.

Midway through the first ring, Ken answered. "Hi." His voice was quiet over the line.

Daisuke released a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding and relaxed at the soothing sound of Ken's voice. "Ken," he breathed, relief flooding his body, a smile spreading across his face. "Hey."

Ken hummed. "How long have you been trying to sleep?"

"Uh, I dunno." He kept his voice low, careful not to disturb Wallace. "Probably going on an hour. Talked to Wallace a bit, though."

"Can't relax?"

"No," he murmured, burying his hand in his messy cinnamon hair. "You?"

"No," Ken agreed.

Daisuke closed his eyes, tried to imagine Ken was there beside him, tried to envision how he'd wrap his arms around him and hold him close, their bodies entwined, twisting and curling around each other.

"Everything okay? Daisuke, you alright?"

He inhaled sharply. "How are you laying?" he asked instead.

For a moment, Ken said nothing, but his quivering breath caught the mic of his phone, and when he finally did speak, the whispered words shook with unspoken emotion. "On my side. Facing the wall."

Okay, that was good. He could picture that.

"Wh-where are your hands?"

"You mean aside from the one holding my phone?" Ken laughed, but the sound was strained. "Um, tucked under the pillow, supporting my head." He paused. "How are you laying?"

Daisuke swallowed. "On my side, facing the wall. My hand's right in front of my stomach."

Right where it could wrap around Ken's waist if they were in the bed together, his nose buried in Ken's sweet-smelling hair. That's how he wanted to sleep. Where he wanted Ken to be instead of all the way in Tamachi.

"What are you wearing?" Ken asked, his voice low, barely discernible over the phone.

Daisuke shifted his leg, uncomfortable with how much his body reacted to Ken's voice. "T-shirt and boxers."

Ken's breath quivered. "No pajamas?"

"No." He chewed his lip. "You?"

"I, um…" Embarrassment laced his voice. "It's hot so I…just my underwear. That's all I put on after my bath."

" _Oh_."

Dear god, if that didn't do things to Daisuke's body…

He exhaled slowly, breath trembling, shivers running down his spine, heat spreading over his skin.

"Daisuke?"

How was he supposed to respond when all his thought processes were devoted to imagining Ken in his bed, wearing nothing but those sexy little boxer briefs he favored, skintight and low on his bony hips? How could he think of anything but running his fingers over the expanse of naked skin?

He wanted Ken to be here with him, flush against him. He wanted to trace every muscle, every bone, every centimeter of Ken's skin. He wanted to comb his fingers through his smooth hair. He wanted to press sweet kisses to his temple, curve his tongue along the shell of his ear, suck on the tender flesh of his throat, while Ken's breath shuddered and quaked like it was doing now over the phone.

"Dai-daisuke? You there?"

"I'm here."

"I feel better," Ken murmured. "Talking to you. You always know how to distract me. Thank you."

Daisuke swallowed down the emotions pulsing through his head and forced himself to focus on Ken, one what Ken needed. "Think you can fall asleep now?" He smoothed his voice, hoping he could be as soothing as Ken was for him. "Or should I keep talking?"

"Keep going. I love listening to you talk."

He released a tiny puff of laughter and happily complied. They'd barely be separated for the past four days, but he could never run out of things to tell Ken.

So Daisuke talked.

He talked until all he heard in response was the soft, steady breathing on the other end of the line that told him Ken was asleep.

*

"You seem nervous today."

Ken shrugged one shoulder.

Dr. Katakawa made a note at his silence. "What's bothering you, Ken?"

His eyes dropped to his clasped hands on his lap, kept there to prevent himself from fidgeting. "Friday is August 1st," he said, voice quiet. "We have our annual gathering. I don't care for the large group gatherings, but I usually manage just fine."

"How is this time different?" She adjusted her glasses and gave him a small encouraging smile. "Other than your friend's pen pal being here."

Ken chewed his lip, building up the courage to say the words. "We're going to the beach."

She paused. "You're worried about visiting the beach."

He nodded.

"Because of the Dark Ocean?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Have you told your friends about your concerns?" Dr. Katakawa searched his face seriously. "Being worried about the Dark Ocean is completely natural."

Ken shook his head. "I don't want to bother them."

"Not even Daisuke?"

"He'll just worry." He tucked a few loose strands behind his ear. "He always worries about me, always thinks he has to rescue me. I hate it. I hate making him feel like he's obligated to take care of me."

"How does Daisuke feel about that?"

Ken pursed his lips. "I'm sure he'd argue."

"Are you sure it's out of obligation?" the doctor asked. "Perhaps he takes care of you because he _wants_ to take care of you."

A soft blush spread over his cheeks, and he looked away. "As much as I'd like that to be true, I can't think like that. If I expect him to feel like that and then he doesn't, I don't know if I could handle it."

In his pocket, his phone vibrated.

With a hesitant frown, he slid the phone out just enough to read the email:

 _Can you come early? Tomorrow night?_ It was from Daisuke, of course. _Spend the night and we'll go to the beach together Friday._

Ken bit his lip.

"Good news?" Dr. Katakawa asked, drawing his attention again.

His cheeks colored a bright pink. "Daisuke wants me to come over the night before the beach party."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, look at the [beautiful fanart](https://www.pixiv.net/artworks/81377849) my friend Fawn did of the phone call scene....I am shooketh.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned before that this fic is pure self-indulgence? Because it is.
> 
> ~~This chapter was supposed to be a cute and intimate reunion, but it didn't go how it was supposed to go. No, it went way way WAY more intimate.~~

Daisuke's leg was shaking in anticipation as he leaned forward, mashing buttons, twisting the joysticks to get a better angle, even as Wallace's blond assassin dove forward with her blade. _Tekken 3_ was not enough to distract him from what he knew was coming.

Outside, thunder rumbled, and a quick glance through the balcony doors showed a soft, slow drizzle falling from dark clouds. Shit. That meant Ken was walking through the rain on his way from the train station.

"Oh, come on, Daisuke," Wallace snapped from his place on the floor. "That was weak."

Even Wallace's taunts—already well established in the week since his arrival—weren't enough to distract him from the fact that Ken was supposed to be there anytime now and two days was far too long to be away from him and dear god, the fact that Ken had insisted he didn't need them to meet him at the station was killing him. He wanted to be there when he arrived, wanted to see him and hug him and run his hands through his hair.

Both legs were shaking now, and even as he mashed buttons, barely paying attention to the punches or the blocking, all he could think about was when Ken would walk through that door.

"You're not focusing," Wallace sang, smug as his character slashed her blade again.

Daisuke bit down on his lip and crouched forward, trying to ignore the fact that he'd lost more than half his hit points and Wallace was kicking his ass.

The doorbell rang.

Daisuke nearly dropped the controller.

"I'll get it!" Jun called as she moved from the kitchen toward the hallway.

Fuck.

No.

Then, he did drop the controller—the moment the game spat out " _KO!_ "—and rushed toward the door, trying to push her out of the way before she could answer it and say stupid, embarrassing things to Ken.

He wasn't fast enough.

"Oh, Ken-kun, I didn't realize you'd be back so soon," she said when she pulled open the front door.

And there was Ken, his normally sleek hair drenched and flattened to his head, his pale blue V-neck sticking to his chest, rivulets of water trailing down his face, his waterproof overnight bag slung over his shoulder, Minomon dangling from his wrist.

He smiled politely at Jun, but then his eyes found Daisuke in the background, and a soft smile spread across his lips despite the rain.

"You're soaked," Jun cried, ushering him inside and shutting the door behind him. "Didn't you bring a raincoat or an umbrella or something?"

He bowed his head and slipped off his leather crossover sandals, squeaking from the water and the pressure. "Ah, I didn't realize it was going to rain when I left," he admitted shyly, and Minomon detached from his arm and floated down the hallway past Daisuke.

But Daisuke couldn't take his eyes off his soaked best friend.

Ken's cheeks flushed a lovely dark pink when he looked up and met his gaze, and he hesitated before starting past Jun to meet Daisuke at where the hallway opened up into the kitchen and living space. "Hey," he murmured when he reached him.

His fingers itched to move the dripping strands of Ken's hair out of his face—he had to pinch himself through the pocket of his cargo shorts to keep from reaching out. "Hi." His voice was thick, strained. "Glad you made it."

Ken nodded.

After a moment, Daisuke cleared his throat and finally tore his eyes away. "Come on. Let's get you into something more comfortable."

In his room, Ken set his duffel bag on the floor by the bed, fully prepared to spend the next couple nights here, and closed and locked the door for privacy, completely ignoring the fact that Daisuke was definitely in there, staring as the water droplets slid down his alabaster skin at an agonizingly slow pace.

With a sigh, Ken knelt next to his bag to sift through the contents, pulling out a fresh set of pajamas to change into.

And then, all too quickly, he was standing, his trembling hands tugging and tearing at his tight V-neck, but the shirt clung to his body, twisting, tangling, barely revealing more than five or six centimeters of clammy skin. He released an irritated sigh, dropped his arms to his sides, and bowed his head, wet strands of his shimmering hair falling in his face.

Daisuke cleared his throat. "Uh, need any help?"

Ken's eyes flashed open and met his over the expanse of the room. Then, he nodded.

Daisuke crossed the room to stand beside him, fingers twitching, begging to touch him but hesitating. But he _had_ to touch him to help, had to literally put his hands on Ken and take his clothes off. And maybe then Ken would stop trembling from the cold.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I'm coming in." He swallowed before forcing himself to reach out.

Ken's eyes fluttered shut, and he tilted his head back in anticipation of the touch. And when contact finally landed, Daisuke's fingers grazing the revealed skin just below the wet, twisted shirt, Ken's entire body convulsed, his brow tightening like he was in pain.

Although, perhaps, from the way his cheeks dusted pink and he bit down on his lip, it wasn't pain Ken felt after all.

Either way, Daisuke pushed through it, fingers slowly untwisting the shirt and peeling it up over Ken's stomach, ribs, pausing right at his sternum. "Um, can you lift your arms?"

Ken gave a tight nod but raised his arms above his head without hesitation. He leaned into the touch as Daisuke pulled his V-neck the rest of the way over his ribs, then worked his shoulders, elbows, arms through the holes. Ken even bowed his head so he could help pull it over his head.

Daisuke dropped the shirt to the floor, his eyes focused on the vast expanse of Ken's damp skin, goosebumps littered across his arms and chest. His tiny nipples, pink and erect from the cold, were begging to be touched, to be kissed and pinched and sucked on.

His fingers traced down Ken's sides, wresting a shiver from his half-naked body, and paused at his hips, just above the waistline of his sleek black capris, held up by a series of three large, silver buttons instead of a zipper. "Do you still need help?"

Blue-violet eyes flashed up, dilated from staying closed so long, and he chewed his lip in thought. In its soaked state, his normally luscious hair, a beautiful mixture of rich indigo and black, was now a deep black, and his bright red cheeks contrasted beautifully.

To be fair, Daisuke could feel the heat rising to his face as well.

Ken moved his hands to the buttons of his skintight capris, but his fingers were still shaking and his attempts to fiddle with the top button were unsuccessful. After a minute, Ken lifted his eyes to meet Daisuke's and nodded. "Take them off?" he whispered.

Daisuke bit his lip so hard he thought it would bleed.

It wasn't until midway through undoing the second button that it really hit him. He was undressing Ken in his locked bedroom, and if there were ever a time for Daisuke to do something stupid—like _kiss his best friend_ —this was it.

Ken took over again when the buttons were undone, and Daisuke only helped a little bit as Ken shimmied out of the wet denim, tugging when it stuck to his damp skin when necessary.

And then he was finally free, standing in front of Daisuke in only a pair of tiny, black boxer briefs, water droplets trailing down the freshly unveiled skin. If he weren't trembling from the cold, Daisuke could've stared at him forever.

But Ken was trembling.

He took a deep breath and stepped away. "I'll go get you a towel."

"What about that one?"

Daisuke turned to see the towel he'd thrown on his desk after his bath an hour or so ago. It had to be mostly dry. "Oh, that's mine." But Ken probably wouldn't want to dry off with a used towel. "I'll get you a new one."

Before he could move, Ken was already at his desk, plucking up the towel and feeling it, testing the dampness. "This is fine," he said, and then he was rubbing it slowly over his bare skin.

Towels had never been so sexy before.

Daisuke dropped onto the edge of his bed, unable to do anything but watch as Ken moved back toward the duffel bag, running the towel through his hair, squeezing and pinching the strands. He slung the towel around his neck and tugged on the pajama bottoms, then the shirt and shifted the towel out of the way to reach the buttons.

Ken worried his lip when his shaking hands still couldn't manage the tiny clear buttons on the top.

"Come here," he said, voice pitched low, and Ken gravitated toward him without a moment of hesitation.

Daisuke spread his legs so Ken could stand between his knees and slowly hooked the buttons together, one by one, all the way up his chest until Ken had to duck lower so Daisuke could reach the top buttons.

He hesitated on the last button and sucked his lip between his teeth when he realized how close Ken's face was now, only a breath away. The perfect distance for him to plant a kiss on those pink lips, to finally taste his mouth, to consume his flavor, to drown in everything that was Ken.

There was nothing he wanted to do more.

Ken's beautiful blue-violet eyes met his, and Ken gripped the edge of the bed for support. "Did you get it?" he murmured.

Daisuke blinked out of his stupor and finally finished the button. "Yeah, all done." He cleared his throat, picking up the pieces of his brain to think again. "Now let's get you wrapped up in a blanket and all warm, okay?"

He slid his hand into Ken's, slotting their fingers together, and after a short stop to hang the towel in the bathroom, led him into the living room.

Wallace was still curled up on a cushion on the floor, immersed in _Tekken Force_ now, and he only looked up to say, "What took so long?" before returning to the minigame.

Daisuke settled Ken on the couch and wrapped the throw around him. "Why didn't you check the weather before coming over?" he asked, voice quiet, as he pulled the blanket snug around his neck and doubled it over to warm his hands and arms especially. "Why didn't I check the weather?"

"It's not your fault, baka," Ken murmured, grabbing his hands again through the blanket. "I'm just cold, and I'll warm up. You don't have to take care of me."

Laughter bubbled from Daisuke's lips, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead to Ken's. "Don't be silly. I like taking care of you. It's one of my favorite things to do." He made a few adjustments to the thick blanket. "Now, think this'll warm you up okay?"

Ken's teeth tugged on his lip, and a blush spread across his cheeks. " _You'd_ warm me up faster."

Daisuke pulled back, face flushing a bright red, and nearly tripped over the living room table. "Uh, yeah, I guess that makes sense."

Besides, Wallace had definitely moved on from their PvP fights.

Ken scooted back on the couch and opened up the huge blanket for Daisuke to climb in, their sides mashing together.

Even through Ken's flannel pajamas, he could feel the cold emanating from his thin body, and Daisuke lifted his leg onto the couch and tugged Ken close, pulling him tight, back to Daisuke's chest, so he could run his hands up and down those cold arms. He took Ken's cold, trembling hands in his and held them close, threading their fingers together on both hands and holding them against Ken's chest.

He could feel Ken's heartbeat, even with Ken's hand between his own hand and his chest. And he leaned against his back, pressing his ear between the shoulder blades, listening for the distant _thump thump_ of the precious heart that had taken his breath away.

How in the world had it taken Daisuke so long to realize he was completely and utterly in love with his best friend?

All he wanted to do was bury himself in everything that made Ichijouji Ken who he was, every touch, every scent, every sweet smile, every soft sigh, every delicate bite, every graceful movement, every tender look that came from the most beautiful eyes in existence.

He wanted to hold him forever.

To keep him in his arms and kiss away his worries and fears.

To reassure him that no matter what happened, he would take care of him.

But above all else, he knew he didn't want to spend another night without Ken. The two they'd spent apart had been torture, only made better by their conversations over the phone, long and uncomfortably, desperately intimate.

At least he knew, after their day at the beach tomorrow, Ken would spend another night, and he'd be able to hold him one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, next chapter is the BEACH PARTY!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fawn, this is a bedtime story.....

The entire world was soft and warm and perfect when Ken woke up, gentle light filtering through the windows. Daisuke was still holding him, and the pleasant thump of his heart reverberated through Ken's body, his head resting against Daisuke's chest. Fingers were tangled in his hair, Ken's knees were bent so their legs linked together, and his arms wrapped around Daisuke's ribs, keeping him close.

They weren't in the same position they'd fallen asleep in, but this was equally as comfortable, as comforting.

When they'd gone to bed, they had curled up together without question, without hesitation, desperate to heal the unwavering need for closeness after two nights apart. They had slotted their bodies together, closing the distance until their separateness was mere technicality, and fallen asleep in each other's arms.

Ken released a happy sigh and burrowed closer, pressing his ear to Daisuke's chest so the steady beat of his heart grew louder, pulsing through him, comforting him, reassuring him in a way little else could.

He could tell the moment Daisuke woke up.

His legs and back straightened, stretching, and the fingers in his hair clenched—Ken bit back a little moan at the brief mixture of pleasure and pain, his arms tightening around Daisuke's rib cage—then began a slow, steady stroke, loosening any tangles with the softest touch. "Morning," he grumbled, his body vibrating with the word.

"Good morning," Ken murmured, nosing his chest, repressing the urge to place a kiss right over his heart. "I'm glad I came over early."

Daisuke's fingers tightened in his hair again, then continued petting gently. "Even with the rain?"

Ken's entire body pulsed and tingled with the memory. He'd been so cold, but it had been worth it to feel Daisuke's hands grazing over his body, to see Daisuke look at him like that, dilated eyes constantly watching.

All feelings aside, potential or otherwise, it was safe to say Daisuke was attracted to him.

Of course, according to Wallace, all his friends were attracted to him.

Or rather, all his friends _wanted_ him.

Ken frowned and tightened his grip on Daisuke, closing his eyes to focus on that comforting heartbeat.

If Daisuke wanted him, he wasn't going to complain, but Ken wanted far more than simply to be _wanted_ , to be desired physically.

Yes, there were a number of things he'd like Daisuke to do to him and just as many he'd like to do to Daisuke. He wanted to kiss every centimeter of Daisuke's body, to trail his tongue over his trembling form, to taste him till he couldn't hold back anymore and swallow him when he came, to rock against him in an eager rhythm, and after Daisuke had stretched him so slowly and deliberately he was begging, to ride him while Daisuke stared up at him with those dilated eyes, a sheen of sweat over his naked body, incoherent and panting and in desperate need of direction.

But he also wanted Daisuke to pull him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, murmur how much he needed him and wanted him and _loved_ him. He wanted Daisuke to…

Well, he didn't know.

Ken clamped his eyes shut, clinging to his best friend.

All the things he so desperately wanted were things they already did. Daisuke already snuggled close while they watched movies and held his hand when they walked. He already emailed him daily and called him every evening to say goodnight, to make sure he fell asleep. Hell, he already fed him, and he definitely paid for more than half their weekly dinners. Which sounded remarkably like dates if you thought about it.

And it was pretty safe to say they already shared a bed considering that's exactly what they were doing now.

So what did he want?

He chewed his lip and focused on the heady beat pounding through his brain.

What he wanted…what he wanted more than anything was for Daisuke to give him his heart. Daisuke already had his; he'd had it for years. All he wanted was Daisuke's in return.

The hand in his hair stilled. "Ken?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

He nuzzled into Daisuke's chest, right over his heart. "Yes."

Daisuke breathed a sigh. "I'm glad you're here. I missed you." He said it like it was a secret, like he was scared to say the words out loud.

Ken's fingers clenched around the fabric of Daisuke's T-shirt. "I missed you too."

The callused fingers started their caress again, moving much more slowly, chewed nails scraping his scalp in a way that sent little electric pulses down his spine. Daisuke tipped his head down, lips resting against the shimmering, inky black locks, and when he exhaled, the hot air tickled and toyed with Ken's senses, overwhelming him.

Tears pricked his eyes.

As much as he longed for these touches, these caresses, the false intimacy was killing him. Daisuke was his best friend and nothing more, and that thought was more painful than he ever thought it could be.

A knock pounded on the door; then, it pushed open. Ken didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"You guys ever getting up?" Wallace said lazily. "Don't we have a beach party to get ready for?"

Ken clung tighter.

*

By the time Daisuke led Ken and Wallace out of the apartment, their Digimon bouncing along beside them, it was already nearly thirty-two degrees. Hot and muggy.

But Daisuke refused to let that ruin this outing.

Today, he got to go to the beach with his nakama, the Chosen Children who were growing up more and more every day. He got to introduce Wallace to his friends, his teammates, his senpais. And best of all, he got to spend the whole day with Ken, his best friend, his partner, his everything, and at the end of the day, Ken would come home with him and spend the night in his bed again. In his arms.

He was determined today would be a good day, no matter what.

They paused in the elevator, Daisuke leaning against the wall by the control panel, his eyes sweeping over the small space. While their baby Digimon bounced around and played on the floor, Wallace stood by the doors on the opposite side, looking more than a little bored, but Ken stood close, barely a hand's breadth away, his hands hooked around the tote he had slung over his shoulder. All Daisuke had thought to bring was the towel slung around his neck and the cheap sunglasses he'd slid on his head, but Ken was always prepared.

Of course, wearing his tight black capris—freshly laundered this morning—and a lavender polo shirt, Ken didn't look like he wanted to have a day at the beach at all.

Although, he shouldn't have been surprised by that.

Daisuke lived only five minutes from Odaiba Beach, but he and Ken rarely went there, rarely played on the beach or in the water. Ken didn't talk about it, but Daisuke was pretty sure he didn't like the reminder of the Dark Ocean.

Which would explain why he wouldn't stop fidgeting.

Daisuke frowned and reached out a hand to trace down Ken's upper arm, pausing at the elbow when Ken glanced at him. "You alright?"

Ken's cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he looked down to where Chibimon, Minomon, and Gummymon were climbing all over each other on the elevator floor. "I'll be fine," he murmured.

But Daisuke didn't pull away until the elevator slowed to a stop at the ground floor.

Outside, Hikari and Taichi were standing by the striped arches, where Hikari was pushing a large, heavy-duty blanket into her brother's arms, a large rainbow parasol sitting on the concrete at their feet beside Hikari's wicker bag. Tailmon and Agumon stood nearby, waiting impatiently for the siblings to get everything organized.

Daisuke strolled over, Chibimon tugging on the strands of his hair, the others not far behind. "Man, I figured we'd be the last ones there."

Hikari shot him a frown before turning those guilt-tripping eyes on her brother. "You'd think we'd arrive first considering we have the shortest distance to travel." There was an edge to her voice she used when she started mothering.

The siblings exchanged a few looks, punctuated by Taichi's huff as he hooked the blanket under one arm and accepted the wicker bag too, then by Hikari's victorious smile.

She plucked up Tailmon and her colorful parasol, then turned her smile on the others. "Good morning," she said, cheerful as ever. "Ken-kun…" She beckoned him over and linked their arms before beginning the march down the staircase toward the park and beach not far away.

Frowning, Daisuke watched them walk away, eyes following the graceful way Ken's hips swayed with each movement.

Taichi came up beside him with an irritated grumble. "I swear, I have two mothers."

A soft laugh escaped his lips, and when he turned, Wallace was watching him in amusement—a look Daisuke specifically chose to ignore when he waved him closer. "Ah, Taichi-senpai, this is Wallace. My friend from America."

Taichi turned to Wallace and accepted the blond's proffered handshake. "Welcome to Tokyo then, man. Daisuke keeping you entertained?"

The three of them slowly followed behind Ken and Hikari, Agumon at Taichi's side.

"Oh, staying with Daisuke is _definitely_ entertaining," Wallace said as they set out down the stairs. "Ken has slept over most of the time I've been here, you know."

Taichi cocked an eyebrow. "Sounds like one big party."

"Shame, though," Wallace said with a melodramatic sigh. "It's a party I'm not allowed to participate in."

Taichi hid his laughter with a poorly timed cough, and Daisuke could only glare at the both of them before striding ahead.

When they reached the beach, Miyako and Iori were already setting up the snacks Miyako had brought from her family's store while Takeru and Yamato were almost done putting up a tent over the nice area they'd chosen near the boardwalk, right next to a cooler of drinks with Ishida written on the side. Jou was the only other person there already, vigorously applying sunscreen, his glasses pushed onto the top of his head.

The brothers finished hooking the tent into place before Yamato came over to hover uncomfortably close to Taichi, his blue eyes narrowing at the brunette. "You're late."

Daisuke rolled his eyes and motioned Wallace onward, past the bickering married couple to join the others.

The Digimon all congregated around the snacks, nearby where Miyako had laid out a large woven blanket under the tent, and Ken and Hikari were already settling onto the thick material when Daisuke caught up, Wallace at his heels. He dropped down next to Ken and watched curiously as his best friend began to unload his tote bag, including a couple water bottles, bug spray, hand sanitizer, and a book that looked far too thick to even consider reading.

"Jeez, Ken, how much did you bring?" he grumbled, leaning close to peek in the tote. 

Ken shot him a glare, closing the bag so he couldn't see inside. "I'd like to see you survive with nothing but that towel and those ridiculous sunglasses," he snapped.

Daisuke's eyebrows shot up. "I think they look cool." He slid them down onto his nose and grinned, cocking his head to the side. "See?"

On his right, Wallace snorted. "You look like an idiot."

Hikari said, "They look very nice, Daisuke-kun."

But he was only looking at Ken, their eyes connecting through the shiny orange lenses. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Ken's cheeks flushed, and he turned away, saying, "We have different definitions of _cool_ , Daisuke."

His grin widened—that blush meant Ken definitely liked them, even if he refused to admit it—and he leaned in. "Oh, come on, what's got your undies in a twist? You're so agitated."

Even here, relaxing on a blanket on the beach with friends, Ken was stiff, obviously uncomfortable, and he only stiffened more when he drew attention to it. "I'm fine," he said as he squeezed a small portion of hand sanitizer into his palm and spread it over his fingers. He refused to open his water until he had it properly applied. "It's nothing."

Well, that wasn't convincing in the least.

But Daisuke didn't know how to broach the subject of the Dark Ocean around other people. Ken wouldn't want him to, even if now was the time Ken needed comfort the most, so all Daisuke could do was set his hand on Ken's thigh and squeeze.

Ken's blue-violet eyes, stunning but wild with emotion, met his, searching his face for the meaning behind the gesture. Only then did he lay his hand atop Daisuke's and squeeze him back, and it amazed Daisuke how quickly Ken could relax at the touch, the tension falling away from his shoulders and back and a soft smile spreading across his luscious pink lips.

On Ken's other side, Hikari cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "You know, I think it's important you came prepared, Ken-kun," she said. "I mean, we all know Daisuke-kun was going to rush out of the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back in all his excitement."

Daisuke huffed, scowling at her. "Hey, I brought a towel."

"And I brought extra," Ken murmured, the flush returning to his cheeks.

It was true; the tote bag held at least four beach towels, along with everything else he'd managed to stuff in there.

The others finally moved closer now that everything was set up—aside from the other blanket Taichi and Yamato were now spreading out next to the first, still shooting each other irritable glances that lasted far longer than any platonic glances should.

And hell, if Daisuke noticed it, everyone else certainly did.

"How long have they been boning?" Wallace nodded toward them as they sat down on the second blanket, close together but also keeping their distance. "Because there's nothing about _that_ "—Wallace waved his hand in their general direction—"that's subtle."

Hikari snorted on the bottle of water she'd just accepted from Ken and began to cough so hard her face turned bright pink.

Or maybe that was just from thinking about her brother sleeping with his best friend.

Daisuke bit his lip. "I mean, are they actually…?"

Ken could only stare at the two of them, his face turning a lovely rosy color.

"Oh, they definitely are," Wallace said, dropping his voice in a minor attempt to be discreet, and Daisuke couldn't argue with how sure he sounded. "They've got tension, sexual tension, but it's not the tension of two people who haven't had sex yet. It's the tension of two people who've had a lot of sex and would totally be down for ditching this entire party to keep having sex."

Ken's cheeks were much darker than rosy now, and he quickly averted his eyes.

"What're you guys staring at?" Taichi snapped, irritation lacing his loud voice—an irritation only Yamato could bring out.

Daisuke and Wallace quickly looked away too.

Miyako passed out a few bottles of water and offered everyone snacks and drinks before taking a seat close to her Jogress partner, their hips brushing. Miyako was already in just her bathing suit, a slimming black and gold one-piece that dipped low in the front to show off her breasts—Daisuke averted his eyes before he began to stare; he had literally zero interest in looking at _Miyako's_ boobs.

Jou, Takeru, and Iori were the last to take their seats on the blankets. Takeru sat by his brother on the second blanket, probably purposefully avoiding sitting too close to Hikari, and Iori settled between Miyako and Wallace. But Jou stopped to say hi to the new arrivals.

"Ah, Jou-senpai," Daisuke said, excited once again as Jou leaned down to squeeze his shoulder in greeting. "Here, this is Wallace. From America."

The blond looked up at the oldest Chosen Child—Jou was twenty, almost twenty-one—and flashed him that flirtatious grin he used so liberally. "Nice to meet you," Wallace said, taking Jou's hand and rubbing his thumb over the knuckles.

Jou only raised his eyebrows questioningly before saying, "Likewise, I'm sure."

When he sat down on the other blanket near Taichi, Daisuke pushed his sunglasses back up into his hair and buried his face in his hands. Laughter spilled from his mouth till he was breathless. "Fuck, can't you keep it in your pants?"

Wallace grinned. "Physically impossible." And he turned to look at Iori, who looked displeased with the fact that he was sitting so close to the American. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little flirting, is there, Iori?"

Shifting his legs beneath him, retracting into a smaller space, Iori swallowed. "There's nothing _inherently_ wrong with flirting."

The blond leaned close enough his shoulder tapped the younger boy's and dropped his voice low. "Glad to hear it."

Iori's brown eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't move away.

Daisuke couldn't stop laughing. He dropped his head onto Ken's shoulder, and his laughter only faded when he realized Ken was leaning his cheek against his cinnamon spikes—leaning _into_ the contact instead of pulling away.

Even after he settled, laughter falling away to mild amusement as Wallace continued shamelessly flirting with Iori, Daisuke didn't sit up, and thankfully, Ken didn't pull away.

If the others gave them looks, he belligerently ignored them.

Here, close to Ken, _touching_ Ken, he was happy, and he refused to let anyone take that away from him. Even if the contact was nothing more than friendly and platonic, he needed that contact, needed to have him close, needed to feel the gentle throb that pulsed through his body at having his best friend, his Jogress partner, his true love physically touching him.

Sora arrived not long later, carrying a couple bags of more food and a bag of more beach towels. With a warm smile, she left her things near Jou and introduced herself to Wallace—a warm pink glow rose to her cheeks when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her knuckles, blue eyes twinkling with mischief—before sitting with the older Chosen.

Koushiro and Mimi were the last to arrive, reaching the group at the same time, though they kept their distance.

They'd been flirting around the idea of dating since Mimi had gotten back from New York, but there'd been no obvious indication they'd decided to take that leap. Arriving at the same time was a good sign, though.

The enormous hickey at Koushiro's collarbone was a pretty good hint.

Daisuke met Mimi's eyes as they introduced Koushiro to Wallace, who smirked more than flirted with them, and she beamed at him, pink dusting her cheeks.

After how much Daisuke had gotten to know her, visiting her and Wallace in New York a few years ago plus the many times they'd hung out since her return, that smile was all the confirmation he needed.

Good for her.

"Okay!" Daisuke pushed up onto his knees as the pair sat down by Sora and the others. "Do we have anything planned right now? Or are we free to do whatever?"

Now that everyone was there—finally—he had no patience.

Miyako laughed. "Someone's ready to go swimming." She glanced between everyone and shrugged. "I mean, I don't think anyone really has anything planned. If you want to go that badly, just go."

Without waiting for confirmation from anyone else, Daisuke jumped to his feet and tore off his teal tank top, then paused.

Ken was staring up at him, eyes wide, face flushing a bright pink, and he cast his gaze downward as Daisuke squatted next to him.

"You're not going to get in the water, are you?" he murmured, tipping his head close.

Ken shook his head but said, "Not now, not yet." His mesmerizing eyes darted nervously toward the water before meeting his best friend's gaze, and he chewed his lip. "Later?"

Daisuke quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

He nodded.

"Okay." With a smile, Daisuke tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear. "I'll hold you to that, Ichijouji."

Ken smiled at him, cheeks a pretty red now. "Okay."

When Daisuke pulled away, several of the others had already dispersed.

Iori was wading in the water, and Wallace joined him a moment later, standing closer than most acquaintances would. It would be easy to write it off as him being a weird American, but the way Wallace curved into Iori, leaning close, smiling like that, teasing the younger boy…well, it was safe to say Wallace wasn't done flirting with him.

Miyako was handing out a few more snacks to the Digimon while Hikari stood nearby, untying her sheer wrap so she too could get in the water. And on the other blanket, Takeru and the older Chosen were all chatting and laughing.

They'd all left him and Ken alone—relatively speaking.

Daisuke cleared his throat. "Well, uh, I'm gonna get in the water."

Ken sat up straight. "Be careful."

But Daisuke simply waved him away and started toward the smooth waves on Odaiba Beach. "You worry too much," he called behind him.

The water was warm on his feet, yet refreshing compared to the muggy haze in the air, and he started to wade out to deeper water to dive—

" _Daisuke!_ "

He turned sharply.

Ken was up on his knees now, his body stiff.

Daisuke's skin crawled.

It didn't take long to reach him again, and he dropped onto his knees in front of Ken, grabbing his shoulders, connecting them.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

But Ken didn't look scared. Just anxious.

He worried his bottom lip before shoving something into Daisuke's chest, forcing him to grab it. "You can't just go out there, baka. You're going to get sunburned."

Daisuke blinked at the bottle of sunscreen in his hands. "Huh?"

"You can't go out there without putting on sunscreen," Ken insisted. "You're not invincible, you know."

A puff of relieved laughter escaped his lips. "God, Ichijouji, you scared the shit out of me. I thought it was something serious."

Ken frowned. "A series of repeated sunburns is incredibly detrimental to your health. This _is_ serious."

He shook his head. "No, I mean, I thought it was something… _dark_."

"Daisuke," Ken chided, purposefully ignoring the meaning behind the word. "You need to put this on."

His eyes studied the bottle again, a frown contorting his lips. "It's really not a big deal, Ken. I spend time outside without this stuff all the time. I never burn."

Ken's eyes narrowed. "Sit."

Daisuke's stomach twisted pleasantly at the forceful command, and he dropped down in front of Ken without question.

Determination etched in every movement and every flash of his gorgeous eyes, Ken snatched the bottle back and squeezed a liberal dollop of sunscreen into his palm. "Stay still," he demanded.

Then, his hands were on Daisuke's shoulders, spreading cold sunscreen over his tan skin. His movements were gentle and smooth, and Daisuke lost all ability to breathe the moment Ken scooted close behind him and let his hands wander over his chest, his ribs, his stomach, pausing just above the hem of his bright blue and yellow striped boardshorts.

Daisuke leaned his head back, resting on Ken's shoulder, eyes clamped shut.

Ken's hands were so soft, and he didn't hold back as he massaged the lotion in, then squeezed out more and spread that over him again, worked it into his skin. When his fingers slid down again, dipping below the waistline of his boardshorts to make sure every centimeter of exposed skin was covered, Daisuke had to bite his lip to repress the groan.

Fuck.

Ken stilled, then moved back.

He did manage to stop that groan, right?

But before he could decide whether to voice that question, Ken's cold hands were on his back, massaging in more sunscreen, tracing down his spine and along his arms, protecting him, taking care of him.

Fuck, he was in love with his neurotic best friend.

And that was never more apparent than when Ken stopped the massage and circled around to apply the lotion directly to his face. He was so cute when he concentrated like that, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, eyes narrowed in determination, leaning so close Daisuke could feel his breath on his lips.

He wanted to kiss him.

Screw the beach and the ocean and the gentle breeze. Screw their friends. Screw the fact that they were in public and you just _didn't do that_.

Screw it all.

He wanted to kiss Ken more than anything in the world.

But then Ken leaned back, a satisfied smile on his delicious-looking lips. "Alright, I'm done."

Daisuke blinked at him. "Huh?"

"Your legs are probably fine—they're used to being exposed to sunlight," Ken continued as if he hadn't heard him, and that proud smile was back. "Give it fifteen minutes to soak in before you start having fun, okay?"

All Daisuke could do was nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More beach party to come in the next chapter!


	16. Chapter 16

Any normal person would find the slow, rhythmic crash of the waves to be a comfort, lulling them to sleep.

Ken couldn't have slept if he'd tried.

Minomon, of course, knew he was on edge, and although his Digimon left him to himself, it always made sure that, no matter what it and Chibimon and the others were up to, it kept him within sight. Ken appreciated the dear thing's care, its kindness.

But he also wished he didn't need to be looked after, didn't need to be watched like something bad might happen…like he was paranoid.

He wished he wasn't so paranoid.

Maybe then he'd be able to focus on the neuropsychology book he'd brought as a bit of extracurricular reading.

The sand shifted nearby, then the blanket.

He looked up just as Takeru plopped down beside him and held out a can of milk tea. "Thirsty?"

Ken flashed him a smile and accepted the cold drink. "Thank you, Takeru-san."

He had a drink of his own, and he relaxed at Ken's side, reclining enough to get a good view of the beach, and took a few sips. "How have you been, Ichijouji-kun?"

Ken cocked an eyebrow, but slid his bookmark back into place and closed the book. There was no point pretending to read anymore.

"We didn't get to talk much last week," Takeru continued between sips of his green tea. "You fell asleep almost as soon as the movie started."

Ken flushed at the reminder of how he'd fallen asleep leaning against Daisuke and woken up in his lap, of how he'd nearly kissed Daisuke in front of all their friends that night. He tried to swallow down the embarrassment, the shame, with a long drink of the milk tea.

"Have you spent much time at Daisuke-kun's with Wallace-kun here?"

That certainly didn't help the blush.

He nibbled his lip and nodded. "Quite a bit since it's summer break," he admitted quietly, cheeks horribly pink. "Wallace-san is…interesting to say the least."

Takeru quirked his head. "So the three of you have just had one giant sleepover while he's been here?" He released a throaty laugh. "That's got to be entertaining. Is sleeping on the floor next to Wallace-kun awkward? Or does he actually give you space?"

Ken's face was on fire. "Oh, um, I have plenty of space from Wallace-san."

With a curious frown, Takeru sat up. "You alright, Ichijouji-kun?"

His eyes sought out Daisuke out in the water, keeping his shoulders and legs afloat with some bright yellow and green noodles. He was relaxing like the water wasn't dangerous, like the undertow couldn't yank him deep, like the black water couldn't force its way down his throat and steal his breaths, smother his screams. Like he couldn't drown.

Ken swallowed a deep breath, forcing himself to focus.

It was impossible to see the subtle movements of Daisuke's breathing as he floated and swayed in the gentle waves, but every once in a while, Daisuke would adjust something, twitch his hand, shift his head and blink his eyes.

Only then could Ken relax. Only once he knew Daisuke was okay.

"Ichijouji-kun?" Takeru was leaning close, brow furrowed, blue eyes tight with worry. "You okay?"

He smiled, trying to ease his friend's concern, though Takeru didn't look particularly convinced. "Yes, I'm alright."

The frown didn't fade from his face. "Something going on with you and Daisuke-kun?"

Heat rose to his cheeks. "What do you mean? Why would there be anything going on with me and Daisuke? I really don't know what—"

Takeru laughed. "Damn, Ichijouji-kun…three denials right in a row. That's not conspicuous at all." He took a long drink of his green tea, stifling his snickers. "And neither is the way you watch him."

Ken swallowed down more of his milk tea in an attempt to calm himself, and his eyes slid across the scene around them.

Daisuke, of course, was still relaxing in the water, calmer and more still than he ever was on land. Wallace was still flirting shamelessly with Iori, who looked as irritated by Wallace's attentions as he did during all their conversations. Koushiro was working on a fancy tablet—how the hell could he afford that?—while Mimi, Sora, and Jou chatted next to him. Miyako and Hikari were splashing around in the shallow water, and Ken hadn't seen Taichi and Yamato since they dove into the water not long after Daisuke.

With another sip, Ken leaned back, his eyes still studying Miyako and Hikari as they chased each other around, laughing and touching and happy. "Takeru-san," he said slowly, "how are things between you and Hikari-san?"

The blond beside him shifted uncomfortably. "Fine. How else would we be?"

Ken sent him a skeptical glance.

Sure, Hikari and Takeru both liked to pretend no one had known about their short-lived relationship during their spring semester, but they'd all known. He couldn't blame them for trying—everyone had been pushing the pair together since they were kids, everyone had assumed there'd be feelings there—and he actually understood why they'd kept it secret…

Unlike Daisuke.

Daisuke's initial reaction was to wonder if they'd decided to hide their relationship because of him, because he'd never really expressed a crush quite so obviously as he had his crush on Hikari, but Ken was sure that wasn't true.

After all, when you're attempting to date one of your closest friends and you're not sure how things will play out, keeping everything quiet until you figured it out was probably a wise decision.

That didn't mean that they'd been particularly subtle, though.

"Takeru-san…"

The blond sighed. "Obviously, things have been strained lately, but they're getting better. We're getting better." His stormy blue eyes sought out Hikari and Miyako playing in the water. "Are you going to ask me if I'm jealous?"

Ken bit his lip. "Jealous?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure Hikari-chan likes Miyako-san," he said, nodding toward the pair. "Or vice versa. Or both." Takeru shrugged and took another drink. "Anyway, yes, things are awkward, and we're learning how to spend time together in the aftermath, but we're still friends. That would never change."

He nodded, holding the can of tea close to his chest.

"I don't think that's something you'd have to worry about, though."

Ken froze. "What do you mean?"

Takeru sent him a knowing smile. "I don't think you or Daisuke-kun would ever let something like that come between you."

"Wh-why does that matter?"

"Ichijouji-kun, you and Daisuke-kun are the exception to the rule. You always have been. Your partnership, your Jogress evolution, your friendship—it always came easier, flowed smoothly." Takeru leaned back on his elbows, looking completely at ease. "The two of you work in perfect sync. You rely on each other, you trust each other, you complement each other in a way none of the rest of us ever have."

Ken smiled bitterly. "Yes, we make great Jogress partners."

"No, you make great _partners_ , Jogress or otherwise." His laughter was short-lived. "You'd make a great couple if the two of you could ever figure out how to cross that line."

He set his can on the cooler nearby and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "I don't see that happening."

"Ichijouji-kun…" Takeru's voice was soft but tired. "You have to know—"

"Ken-chan?"

Ken blinked, clearing his vision to focus on Minomon, floating right in front of him, and opened his arms for his Digimon. "What is it, Minomon?" he asked when the little bug curled up against his cheek.

His little Digimon snuggled close, cuddling up in his hair, and the two of them stared out at the water. "Ken-chan, why are you sad?"

He blinked, trying to reconcile the question with Minomon's normally exuberant attitude. "What do you mean?"

The Digimon frowned at him. "You've been talking about something that makes you sad with Takeru."

Ken sighed and let his eyes fall shut. "Daisuke…"

"Why does Daisuke make you sad?"

His eyes flashed open at the familiar voice.

Chibimon, standing on the blanket right in front of him, stared back, head cocked in curiosity. "Friends aren't supposed to make you sad. Isn't Daisuke your friend?"

Ken's eyes stung, and he let them fall shut again. "Of course we're friends," he said softly. "The best of friends. His friendship is one of the most important things to me, and I'd never do anything to hurt that, to ruin it."

Minomon relaxed just the littlest bit. "Are you sad because you want to kiss Daisuke?"

To his left, Takeru snorted.

"Why would that make you sad?" Chibimon was closer now, tugging on the leg of his capris. "Daisuke wants to kiss you all the time. At least that's what Wallace and Gummymon say."

Warmth rose to Ken's cheeks, and he forced a wan smile as he looked down at the sweet blue Digimon. "But kissing Daisuke could ruin our friendship," he said slowly, "and I don't want to lose him."

Chibimon frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would kissing him mean you can't be friends anymore?"

Minomon sighed, ruffling Ken's hair. "Ken-chan, I agree." Then it hopped down to hover next to Chibimon. "Kissing sounds kind of like Jogress."

The little blue dragon giggled. "And we only got closer after we evolved together!" it exclaimed before pouncing on its partner, and the two baby Digimon rolled around on the blanket, tickling each other and laughing and roughhousing.

Ken smiled at them affectionately.

These two had become inseparable the closer he and Daisuke had become, and that was such a comfort. But it also added another layer to his anxiety: If his friendship with Daisuke ever fell apart, he would deprive his partner Digimon of its best friend as well.

"They're right, you know," Takeru murmured, clutching his can of green tea close. "Sure, telling Daisuke how you feel might ruin your friendship, but isn't it equally possible it wouldn't change a thing?"

Was it possible?

Okay, technically, yes.

Ken's eyes found Daisuke out in the waves again, and this time, Daisuke was staring back, watching him carefully. Their eyes connected across the vast expanse of sand and foaming water, and a pleasant shiver ran down Ken's spine.

Was that possibility—that technicality—worth the risk?

He wasn't sure.

*

By the time everyone started to eat the food Miyako and the others brought, Daisuke's skin was pruny.

Normally, he wouldn't have stayed out in the water so long—not without company—but the cool water had helped calm him down, and dear god, he'd definitely needed that. He'd needed to wash away the feel of Ken's soft fingers tracing over his skin, working the sunscreen in, seducing him with a simple touch.

He'd needed the water to wash away his desire to drag Ken into a kiss right there on the beach, to wash away the arousal he could only hope no one had noticed before he'd managed to slip into the water.

Why did being in love with your best friend have to have such inconvenient side effects?

Thankfully, that wasn't a factor now.

Although, jealousy obviously was.

When he slipped out of the water and trudged through the sand to their place by the boardwalk, Ken was still sitting with Takeru, talking quietly, in confidence.

Thick irritation settled in Daisuke's stomach.

Their conversation faded the moment he got close, the moment Takeru realized he was approaching. Why were they so secretive? Why couldn't they keep talking in front of him? Was Ken into Takeru?

But the moment Ken turned to him, everything else faded away.

Ken's face, which had been concerned, uncomfortable even, lit up the moment Daisuke approached, water dripping down his body, feet and calves coated in sand. Ken lifted their Digimon—yes, both Minomon and Chibimon—from where they were sleeping in his lap and pushed up onto his knees, offering a dark blue beach towel.

"Hey…" He grabbed the towel and ran it quickly over his body, but the boardshorts were still dripping constantly. Not a big deal since he was planning to go back out there after eating and spending some time with Ken, of course. "What're you two up to?"

Takeru shrugged. "Just talking."

Daisuke, though, hadn't taken his eyes off of Ken. "You gotten anything to eat yet?"

Ken nibbled his lip—fuck, did he really have to do that?—and shook his head. "No, not yet."

He inclined his head toward the Digimon. "Have they?"

"They fell asleep before the food was ready." He shifted to look at the food Miyako and Hikari had pulled out for everyone to eat and started to get up, but Daisuke held out his hand to stop him.

"Don't worry about it." He ran the towel over his wet hair and wiped out his ears before dropping it on the edge of the blanket, then plucked up his orange sunglasses and slid them on. "You sit and relax. I'll get you something."

And there were those perfect white teeth again, worrying his bottom lip. "Okay."

Miyako had brought a number of bento boxes, premade from her family's store, and an assortment of onigiri, and Daisuke grabbed a few bentos to bring back to Ken and their Digimon. Takeru could get his own damn food.

When he dropped onto the blanket again and handed Ken one of the boxes, Ken beamed at him, his smile bright and beautiful and intoxicating.

Daisuke popped open his bento and glanced over the contents—nigiri, tamagoyaki, wakame gohan, among other things. He enjoyed tamagoyaki, but he liked making it more. It was one of Ken's favorite things, and watching him enjoy it, watching him enjoy anything, was _Daisuke's_ favorite thing.

He shifted to take a peek at Ken's box as he slipped off the lid, all delicate fingers and soft movements.

Daisuke bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to focus on the food, on the pain, on the moment at hand instead of remembering the way those slender fingers had glided over his skin, the cute look on Ken's face when he concentrated, how his breath had brushed his lips as he rubbed the sunscreen into his face.

Fuck.

He cleared his throat. "What'd you get?" He shifted closer, peering inside.

Tempura, chicken karaage, grilled eel, sashimi, sekihan rice…

"Looks good," Daisuke said, and he dove forward, chopsticks at the ready, to snag a piece of sashimi and popped it into his mouth.

"That's mine," Ken snapped, narrowing his eyes.

Daisuke chewed, contemplating the food. Not bad considering it was just from a convenience store. And when he swallowed, he grinned at his best friend. "Let me make it up to you." Without waiting for confirmation, Daisuke snagged a piece of the omelet and held it out.

A blush spread across Ken's cheeks, and a small smile curled his lips. He didn't complain now, only leaned forward and took the tamagoyaki into his mouth.

His blue-violet eyes fluttered shut as he ate, savoring the flavor, while Daisuke savored the warmth on Ken's cheeks, the slow way he chewed, the tremble of his breath, how he devoured that small bite of sweet omelet.

After he swallowed, Ken's eyes opened slowly, blinking blearily.

When he met Daisuke's gaze, his pupils were blown wide, and all at once, Daisuke's desperate attempts to drown out his arousal in the ocean were for nothing.

"Wa—" He cleared the thickness from his throat and tried again. "Do you want some more?"

"But that's _your_ lunch," Ken said in a small voice, eyes flitting downward, but he didn't protest when Daisuke held out another piece for him.

He accepted it without hesitation, and this time, he voiced his pleasure with a little moan, his eyes closing gently, the flush on his cheeks deepening. When he swallowed, a satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

Ken held his hand over his heart as he met Daisuke's gaze again. "It's delicious."

Daisuke wetted his lips, unable to take his eyes away.

But Ken glanced down toward the bento box on Daisuke's lap. "Aren't you going to have some?"

He looked down long enough to grab the next piece, but he didn't have the heart to eat it. "More?"

This time, Ken held his gaze as he welcomed the tamagoyaki, held his attention as he moved it around his mouth, as he consumed that lucky bite of omelet.

Daisuke felt consumed too.

Wanted to actually _be_ consumed.

And if Daisuke had to live vicariously through a stupid piece of tamagoyaki, he fucking would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ken will lose his shirt in the next chapter, I PROMISE!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically watermelon porn. I make no apologies.

Daisuke lost track of how long they were eating—or rather, how long Daisuke stared while Ken was eating—and the next thing Daisuke knew, Miyako and Mimi were dragging a huge watermelon on a tarp toward a nearby open area of sand.

Only then did Daisuke manage to pull his attention away from the sensual way Ken's mouth moved.

Only then did Daisuke register they were surrounded by their friends—and several of them were near enough they were shooting him knowing looks. None looked more smug than Takeru, though, which was…

Well, that was fair.

Daisuke had been so engrossed by everything Ken that he'd barely registered anything else. He'd barely registered when Chibimon and Minomon had woken up, groggy until they'd discovered their food. He'd barely registered when Takeru had laughingly risen to his feet to get himself a bento box and he'd barely registered his return. Hell, he'd barely registered eating his own food; he'd done so without looking, without thinking.

But then, there was a watermelon and Mimi, a long stick in her hand, was giggling up a storm, excitement brewing.

Ken shifted to get a better view of what the girls were doing, the tail of his custard taiyaki sticking out of his mouth, and after a moment, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, he bit down. The filling squeezed out, the creamy custard sticking to his mouth.

Daisuke's gaze reverted back to those tantalizing lips, and he froze when Ken caught his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked off the custard.

" _Koushiro-kun! Come here!_ "

He tore his eyes away to watch Koushiro trudge past them, looking thoroughly irritated he'd had to put away his tablet.

When he came to stop in front of Mimi—who was very definitely his girlfriend—they spoke in hushed voices, Koushiro unimpressed and annoyed, Mimi urging and teasing, before she finally managed to spin him round and wrap a blindfold over his resigned eyes.

She laughed with glee as she helped spin him round and round and round the long, straight stick, then stopped him short. "Take it away, Koushiro-kun!"

He nearly fell over. Would have if it weren't for the stick keeping him steady.

Everyone shifted closer, shouting directions as Koushiro stumbled around, feeling his way with the stick, slowly moving toward the watermelon at a weird angle. Behind him, Takeru was up on his knees, yelling, "Come on, Koushiro-san! To your left. You're going to walk right past it!"

Daisuke glanced back—Takeru was practically screaming in his ear—but then Ken was right next to him, leaning close for a better view of the game. Close enough Ken's sleek hair brushed his bare shoulder.

Too close.

He bit his lip to stop himself from leaning in to Ken's soft tresses, to his flushed smile, to the way his body curved around Daisuke without touching him. He wanted to lean in and cover his delicate mouth with a kiss, to drink up that smile and that blush and drown in everything that was Ken.

He forced his eyes shut, desperate to ignore the aching need to throw himself at his best friend.

It was really unfair how lovely Ken looked in just a polo shirt and capris, his sweet smile spread across his face, enjoying the company of his friends instead of worrying about the waters far to their left.

Daisuke hated how much he worried, how much the ocean still scared him, but the worst part was how Ken tried to hide it. Like Daisuke couldn't tell from how his body tensed or how he avoided looking directly at the waves or how his heart fluttered in panic when someone dear got too close to the water.

It was nice to see Ken relaxed instead, at ease, curling toward him like Daisuke could protect him.

Ken's sparkling, blue-violet eyes found his, and his smile widened just slightly.

Daisuke loved that smile. Loved the blush that spread across his cheeks when he caught Daisuke watching him. Loved how happy he was, even this close to Tokyo Bay. Loved everything about him.

Loved _him_.

"Daisuke?" Ken cocked his head, curious.

No amount of effort could restrain him from reaching up and tucking the loose strands of pretty hair behind Ken's ear, grazing the sensitive shell. "I love your smile," was all he could think to say.

Ken's blush deepened considerably, and his gaze fell toward the small space between them.

_Whack!_

"Oh, come on," Takeru shouted.

They turned to look just as Koushiro was tearing off the blindfold. He'd missed entirely, but he didn't seem to mind as he returned to his spot on the other blanket.

"I want to go!" Takeru cried, scrambling to his feet.

Mimi and Miyako quickly set about helping him with the blindfold and spinning around, though their help wasn't particularly helpful.

But when he looked beside him again, not caring whether Takeru busted the watermelon open or missed the mark entirely, Ken was closer than before. Close enough it wouldn't take much effort to close the distance between them, to kiss Ken like their lives depended on it.

Sometimes, Daisuke thought his life did depend on it.

Depended on Ken. On their closeness, their bond, the way he still felt Ken's heart beating inside his chest if he focused, if he tried hard enough.

 _Thwack_ …

Takeru had managed to hit it, but the stick only grazed the side. Definitely didn't break the skin.

Sora went next, then Jou, and Wallace jumped at the chance once he understood how the game worked. But Daisuke was far too distracted to care.

He cleared his throat and shifted his knees to face Ken a little better. "You know, nobody's hit it hard enough to bust it open yet…"

His best friend nodded. "Yes, I _have_ been paying attention."

"You should do it."

Ken stared at him.

"Oh, don't worry so much." A smile crept onto Daisuke's face. "You've got to let loose, Ken. You know it'd be fun."

He chewed his lip, considering, eyes darting toward the tarp with the watermelon—where Wallace sent a sharp _whack_ , driving the stick into the sand a good meter from the melon—and finally said, "I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world." Then, his gaze fell to the polo shirt and capris he was still wearing. "But I certainly couldn't do it in these."

Daisuke swallowed. "You better get changed then. Before someone else breaks it open and you lose your chance."

Ken arched an eyebrow. "You don't want to do it?"

"Nah, I'm having fun just watching people play."

A serene smile spread across Ken's lips, then he pulled away, pushed up onto his knees and stood. "Alright then. I'll take these off just in case. I'd prefer not to clean watermelon off my clothes."

Daisuke nodded, turning back to watch the game.

But Ken didn't grab his tote bag like he'd expected. He didn't pull out swimming trunks or head somewhere to change. He didn't leave the blanket.

Miyako was tying the blindfold over Hikari's eyes, leaning close to whisper in her Jogress partner's ear, when a lavender-colored something dropped onto the spot Ken had just vacated.

He turned sharply.

Ken had peeled off his polo shirt and thrown it on the blanket.

He stood there now, his chest bared for the world to see, all lean muscles and pale, smooth skin and ribs that were a bit too obvious because the boy never ate enough, and his hands…

Fuck.

His hands were undoing the trio of buttons that held up his black capris.

Daisuke couldn't breathe.

Only when Ken started to nudge down the skin-tight capris did Daisuke catch a glimpse of the black and electric blue swimwear underneath, fitted like his underwear, glossy and sleek, tight enough Daisuke didn't need to devote much effort to his imagination.

God, Ken was wearing that in public? And he was okay with that?

Ken slid out first one leg, then the other and folded up his capris. Then he was standing in nothing but those tiny square-leg swimming shorts, revealing his long, long legs and the sharp jut of his hip bones.

And he was just standing there.

For anyone to see.

Which was…which was _technically_ fine.

Daisuke definitely didn't have any cause to be jealous. That would require their moments to be more than just moments. For their cuddling to be more than just cuddling. For last night to be more than just helping Ken undress when he literally couldn't work the buttons, more than helping his best friend get dry and warm.

For Daisuke to be jealous, it would require Ken to actually be _his_.

That simply wasn't true.

But when Ken swept across the beach toward Mimi and Miyako, ready to take a swing at the watermelon, Daisuke shifted at the uncomfortable realization that he wasn't the only person watching Ken's suave movements and lithe form, that he wasn't the only one staring at that pert ass, that he wasn't the only one wanting to touch all that exposed pale skin.

"Wow…" Takeru scooted forward to sit next to him. "That's not what Ichijouji-kun wore when we went to the pool a couple weeks ago." He paused, frowning. "Wonder why he got a new suit."

Daisuke bit his lip, trying not to compare the loose, dark green trunks that fell midway down Ken's thighs he'd worn last month to the skin-tight, black and blue swim shorts that clung to his hips now. The difference was a lot to handle.

"Any ideas, Daisuke-kun?" Takeru sent him a sidelong glance, eyes sparkling with amusement.

His body tensed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

On his left, someone snorted.

Wallace dropped onto the blanket next to him with a wide smirk. "Oh, of course you don't. We wouldn't want you to consider the possibility that he decided to wear _that_ for a reason."

He was taunting, of course. Trying to get a rise out of him. And Daisuke wouldn't let that happen.

"Hmm," Wallace added, his eyes flitting up and down Ken's form as Mimi tied the blindfold around his head, "do you think maybe he decided to wear that because _I'm_ here?"

Daisuke nearly growled. "Why in the world would he dress like that for _you_?"

Wallace's face twisted with amusement. "I never said he dressed for me. Just _because_ of me." He leaned close, resting his hand on Daisuke's shoulder, his mouth grazing his ear, shooting a shiver down his spine. "Maybe I'm making him jealous."

Jaw clenched shut, Daisuke shrugged him off. "Don't you have someone else to bother? Haven't you spent the last two hours hitting on Iori?"

The American laughed jovially. "I'm not sure Iori likes me too much."

"Iori doesn't like anyone too much," Takeru said, chuckling. "I wouldn't be too offended."

"Oh, I'm definitely not offended…"

Ken was getting so tall. He had to hunch down as he spun round and round and round, his lean muscles flexing and contracting with the movement, and when Miyako pressed a hand to his back, touching bare skin—Daisuke's eyes narrowed—Ken was so dizzy when he straightened up he nearly fell over.

Daisuke scooted forward to the edge of the blanket, body tense.

Ken balanced himself with the stick and took a few tentative steps in the general direction of the watermelon, but blindfolded, he could hardly be expected to know where it was. Most of the others hadn't even managed to hit it on their turns, but there was a determination etched in Ken's jawline.

All around him, the others shouted directions, trying to lead him to his goal—or away from it in Takeru's case.

But Ken's steps were hesitant, and he stumbled with the movements.

Daisuke chewed his lip. In his chest, his heart was beating erratically. Then, he finally opened his mouth. "Focus! You don't need to see to do this."

Ken's uncharacteristically jerky movements immediately stopped, and then, all at once, he strode forward with an intense confidence, sweeping the stick back and forth, low to the ground. He was moving toward the sound of Daisuke's voice.

The watermelon and tarp were between them, though a little closer to the water than the boardwalk, and Ken knew that, even if he couldn't see it.

"Adjust your course," Daisuke called out.

Ken paused mid-step, then twisted his attention and his whole body in the direction of his destination.

The thump in Daisuke's chest was even now but strong, and he leaned into it, let it course through him, focused on that steady beat, even as his eyes studied Ken's sure posture and deliberate steps as he approached the edge of the tarp.

"Don't go too far," he warned.

Ken slowed his pace, and when his bare foot found a dip in the sand not far from the tarp, he stopped.

When he took his swing a moment later, his body moved with all the ease and confidence of someone who could see what was in front of him, someone who knew exactly where he wanted that swing to land.

The watermelon didn't split; it burst open.

Pink juice and pulp squirted up in a sharp spray, splattering over Ken's bare chest and face as the melon fell apart, leaving it in several large chunks.

Ken nudged the blindfold up, and laughter bubbled from his mouth, cheeks scrunching together in joy. Normally, he hated getting messy, but the adrenaline must've overridden that because he didn't seem bothered at all.

It was pulsing through Daisuke's body too, and he jumped to his feet, laughing happily, to meet Ken at the tarp.

Beautiful blue-violet eyes met his, twinkling and mesmerizing and _happy_ , and a smile spread across his lips. "Okay, I admit," Ken said in a quiet voice, like it was a secret, "this was more fun than I expected."

Daisuke grinned.

Seeing Ken happy sent a thrill down his spine that little else could. Too often, Ken sealed himself away, emotions and all, protecting himself from the world, even from Daisuke himself.

"You're a mess, you know." He nodded to the juice dripping down his pale chest and face, and he ran a finger over his heart, trailing through the syrupy liquid. "You're all sticky now…"

Ken's laughter cut short, and he stared, eyes wide, dilated, hypnotizing, lips parted, a blush rising on his cheeks.

Daisuke bit his lip.

He wanted Ken on the ground, pinned and panting, and he wanted to lick that sticky juice off his chest and face and kiss him with the force of a thousand suns. He wanted to hold him and touch him and lick the melon off his perfect skin. He wanted to kiss away his tears, swallow his moans, and god, if he looked this good covered with watermelon, he'd look even better covered with his—

"Yes, I suppose I should wash off," Ken said, his voice pitched low and suddenly quivering. His blush deepened the longer Daisuke's fingers were pressed over his heart.

"Are you two going to eat any watermelon?"

Daisuke blinked, pulling away to look at Miyako. "Huh? What'd you say?"

Ken averted his eyes, and the flush on his cheeks, already a warm pink, transitioned to a lovely deep red.

Miyako cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest in irritation. "I asked if you want any watermelon."

He looked down.

The watermelon chunks had been retrieved during their conversation and were being divided among the group. They'd been so into the conversation they hadn't even noticed everyone moving around them.

Heat rose to Daisuke's cheeks at the realization.

God, they were on Odaiba Beach. In front of all their friends. And the rest of the world. And here he was touching Ken's naked chest and thinking about…

Well.

Thinking about things he definitely shouldn't be thinking about. Things he had no right to think about.

"Uh, yes, please," Ken murmured.

Not long later, they were sitting in the sand, the waves crashing only a few meters away, and eating the watermelon.

And trying not to look at each other.

Trying not to think about touching the soft skin of his chest. Not to think about laying his hand over Ken's heart and feeling the beat, steady and then, all at once, stuttering with emotion.

Daisuke finished his watermelon slowly, but he still managed to eat faster than Ken, who did little more than nibble at the succulent melon as the juice flowed down his arms and chin, dripping over smooth skin, the sugary liquid trickling over taut muscles and naked flesh and all-too-visible ribs.

Fuck.

He'd been avoiding looking for a reason.

His body was burning up from the inside. He wanted to lick the juice off that luscious skin, to trace his tongue, his lips, his hands over every plane of flesh, every swell and dip and dimple, every centimeter of Ken.

Fuck.

Double fuck.

He needed to get back in the water.

Daisuke pushed up onto his knees and dropped his rind onto the sand. "I'm a mess," he barely managed to say, struggling to his feet. "I'm gonna get back in the water."

Behind him, Ken set aside the remnants of his melon slice and rose to his feet with all a grace only he seemed to possess. "I'll join you," he said in a gentle voice, and he slowly stepped into the cool water. "I need to rinse off."

Waist-deep, Daisuke turned fully to watch as he waded closer, the water steadily rising, covering his skin centimeter by slow centimeter.

Daisuke bit his lip. "You alright out here?"

Ken met his eyes over the smooth waves and stilled. "I'm okay."

Not that he was convincing.

Daisuke crossed the distance to him immediately, striding through the water with purpose, and took him by the hands. "I'm here with you," he said, entwining their fingers. "Promise."

The smile that graced Ken's lips was soft and pleased and made his knees weak.

"We can stay right here if you like."

Ken nodded.

With his long legs, the water barely wetted the bottom hem of his swim shorts. It definitely didn't reach the sticky juice all over his face and chest, but there was no chance Ken would be willing to dunk his head under the water.

Daisuke tugged his hands free, even as Ken grabbed for him again. "Let me help," he said as he stepped closer, into Ken's space, and cupped water in his hands. "I'll rinse you off, and then we can take a proper shower when we get back to the apartment."

Ken's eyes widened incrementally, and he worried his bottom lip.

"Uh, two." He cleared his throat. "I meant _two_ showers. Obviously."

But Ken didn't say a word.

Daisuke lifted the cupped water to pour on Ken's chest. Those blue-violet eyes fell shut, and he leaned his head back and let the water flow over his body, following every ridge and curve. And when Daisuke put his hands on him to wash away whatever stickiness remained, Ken released a soft sigh and pressed into the touch.

"Can you…?" Daisuke tried, the words coming out breathless. "Can you come closer? I want to get your face."

Ken stepped forward, narrowing the distance between them, and lay his hands on Daisuke's hips to steady himself. "This close enough?"

The words that came out were indistinct and strangled, but the affirmation was obvious from his tone, and Ken relaxed, even as he spread his wet fingers over the delicate skin of his face to wipe away the juice.

"Won't take long," Daisuke promised when he regained his voice. "I've got you."

He wrapped an arm around his waist and used the other to wipe the water away from his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his lips. Ken trembled in his embrace, clinging to him, fingers digging into the sensitive skin at his hips till Daisuke's body was tingling and eager and desperate from the contact.

Ken's face was flushed under his touch, and his eyes fluttered open to meet Daisuke's. "Thank you," he murmured as rough fingers grazed his cheekbones. "Thank you for making sure I'm okay. For taking care of me."

"Hey…" He cupped Ken's cheek and pressed closer. "I will always take care of you."

Slender fingers clenched at his waist, and Ken smiled at him like those words meant the world to him.

And they should.

Because Ken meant the world to _him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Odaiba Day is not over. Seriously, Odaiba Day will last forever.
> 
> For reference, the watermelon game they're playing is called [Suikawari](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suikawari), which translates to _Watermelon Splitting_.
> 
> Also, check out [this lovely art of Ken eating some taiyaki](https://twitter.com/fawnmons/status/1262290808033677318?s=20)....lmao


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wallace is a little shit. This is nothing new.

Later, when the group readied to relocate to the Yagamis' apartment in the late afternoon as planned, Ken still felt too wet pull on his capris, but he donned his lavender polo and kept his towel wrapped around his waist.

Hikari and Taichi had more snacks at the ready, and they'd planned a simple evening for everyone.

The group wouldn't start their typical reliving of the time Vamdemon took over Odaiba until the following day. Then, they'd tour around Odaiba and the surrounding areas—even venturing into Tamachi, so close to where he'd been all those years ago—and remember the days before, the friends who'd died, the sacrifices they'd made.

Ken had no interest in reliving those days, in remembering the times he'd unknowingly been so close to an adventure he wasn't sure he would've wanted. While they were saving the world nine years ago, his digivice had been trapped away in Osamu's desk drawer, calling to him, begging him to take it out and use it. He realized now he must've gotten it the same time the others had received theirs, been destined to join the fight against Vamdemon from the beginning.

His heart ached at the notion that, had they found him, had he joined them, his entire life would've taken a different trajectory.

Warm fingers entwined with his, and Daisuke squeezed his hand, pulling him back to the present, back to the short walk toward the apartment building that had practically become his home over the last week or so.

The Yagamis, of course, lived on the thirteenth floor, three floors above Daisuke's apartment, but it amazed him how much riding up that elevator put him at ease.

Or perhaps that was Daisuke holding his hand, comforting him.

Ken tucked his head, letting his hair, stringy from the water, fall over his face. "Thank you," he murmured, close to Daisuke's ear.

With the whole group—well, everyone but Taichi and Yamato, who hadn't returned after their disappearance hours ago—inside, he and Daisuke were pushed close together, Ken's back against the wall, Daisuke smashed into his side. The elevator, which typically seemed quite spacious, was packed with the Chosen Children and their partners.

Ken focused on Daisuke, on his hand, on the way his bare shoulder, revealed by his tight tank top, pressed against Ken's chest. It felt hot even through his polo shirt. Daisuke was leaning into him, all relaxed and intimate and very public.

But Daisuke twisted to look at him, their faces suddenly far closer than they ever should've been, and grinned. "Hey," he whispered, trying to keep this conversation just between the two of them, "I can tell when you're upset."

Ken tried to smile, but it didn't feel genuine. Not with Daisuke's body pressed firmly against his, and definitely not with them surrounded by all their friends.

"We don't have to go with everybody tomorrow, you know."

He sought out Daisuke's warm brown orbs. "You always go."

But that wasn't strictly true. Ken had only attended a handful of times, and Daisuke had only gone a couple more. It wasn't unprecedented for Daisuke to join him for an afternoon at a coffee shop in Tamachi or whatever Ken wanted to do instead.

Because Daisuke knew how uncomfortable that sort of reminiscing made him.

They'd talked about Ken's experiences before becoming the Kaiser extensively his first reunion day, way back in 2003, just the two of them. Well, as extensively as Ken could remember. Even years later, with help from his therapist and Wormmon and Daisuke, there were many things still locked away inside his head, things he would probably never remember.

When the elevator doors opened on the thirteenth floor, the Chosen piled out into the hallway, separating into smaller groups as they made their way toward apartment 1306.

Daisuke didn't let go of his hand. They left the elevator together, hand in hand, Minomon wrapped around his free wrist, Chibimon sitting atop Daisuke's head, and followed Hikari's determined walk.

She was frustrated to say the least.

After Taichi's disappearance, she'd tried to call him multiple times, but her attempts had proven fruitless. Daisuke had laughed and suggested he was probably just avoiding getting berated by his second mother. Wallace had a very different theory, and considering Yamato was also missing, his theory seemed much more likely.

When Hikari pushed open the apartment door, it was fairly obvious who was right.

"Come on in," Hikari called, nodding everyone inside the door, and she immediately headed for the living room to set down her things. "Give me a bit to get out some drinks, and we can start some games. Otou-san and Okaa-san went to visit Obaa-san, so we have the place to ourselves today."

Everyone else paused near the door, many still outside.

Ken's eyes found, first and foremost, the two pairs of shoes by the door as he slid off his own sandals. Shoes that he knew belonged to Taichi and Yamato.

But the thing that made him stop mid-stride was the rather obvious trail of clothing down the hallway. Leading right to Taichi's bedroom.

Hikari must've missed it with her arms so full of supplies.

Ken chewed his lip, uncertain what to do, but behind him, the others didn't want to wait in the hallway.

Daisuke squeezed his hand, then released and pressed his fingers to the small of Ken's back, his hot skin emanating through the polo shirt. He pressed close enough to murmur, "What's wrong?"

His touch sent a shiver down Ken's spine, and he tried not to look at his best friend as he pointed out the obvious, a thick blush rising to his cheeks. "I think Taichi-san and Yamato-senpai are a bit preoccupied right now."

"Whaaa…?"

Behind them, Wallace snorted. "Oh, are they now?" And he nudged them forward. "Come on, come on. Some of us want inside."

Daisuke bumped into him.

Ken tried to shift out of the way, away from his touch, but Daisuke followed, his hand still low on his back, as the rest of the group pushed inside the apartment. He tried to steady himself with the wall, then Daisuke was flush against his side, his fingers clenching in the lavender polo.

He clamped his eyes shut.

"Ken, you okay?"

Daisuke was far too close, and he wasn't pulling away.

Ken bit his lip and slowly forced his eyes open. "I don't think we should be here right now."

His best friend cocked his head, brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, the door immediately across from them pushed open.

Everyone stopped.

Taichi stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of ice-blue boxers and an untied robe. A number of what could only be fresh love bites were scattered across his bare chest—and god, were there fingernail scratches? What the hell did he and Yamato _do_ behind closed doors?

"Senpai," Daisuke cried, eyes wide, a blush rising to his cheeks.

Ken's eyes fell shut.

Of course.

He'd always gotten the impression Daisuke had had a bit of a crush on Taichi when they were younger. He'd assumed that had passed a long time ago, like the crush on Hikari had. But what reason would he have to think that when his crush on Wallace obviously hadn't passed either?

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Taichi snapped at the crowd.

"Onii-chan?"

Hikari caught his attention, and he walked down the hallway to the main living area.

Ken could breathe again.

Except for the fact that Daisuke, blushing and staring after his goddamn senpai who wasn't wearing anything but a pair of boxers, was still pressed to his side.

Hikari and Taichi's voices, rumbling with irritation, filtered down the hallway for what felt like a century. Everything felt like a century with Daisuke this close, his hot breath permeating the knitted fabric of his shirt, expanding over his skin, spreading a heat up his neck.

Then Taichi stormed back to his bedroom, pushing open the door and slamming it shut behind him.

A moment later, Hikari stuck her head out with a little smile. "Come on in, everyone!"

Everyone piled inside the living room, alongside Agumon and Gabumon, who'd been chatting on the armchair when they'd arrived, and Hikari brought out some drinks and started to set up their Wii.

Ken was settled into the corner of the couch, Daisuke beside him, hip to hip, his arm slung around the back of the couch, fingers grazing his shoulder, leaning into him. Daisuke wrapped around him like Ken was supposed to be there, like Ken belonged in his arms, and Ken wanted nothing more than to fit there, to belong to him endlessly.

But really, Daisuke was just as close to Takeru as he was to Ken. They were squished together not because Daisuke wanted his closeness, but because they needed to fit as many people as possible.

Ken clung to the armrest, trying to separate himself from his best friend, to not melt into Daisuke's warmth and give in to his attention.

"Ken-kun?"

He glanced up to find Hikari looking at him curiously. "Yes?"

"Do you want to play the first round?"

He bit his lip.

"It's just _Mario Kart_ ," she added and held out a black controller. "You like racing games, right?"

Taichi's bedroom door pulled open, and Taichi and Yamato strolled out like they hadn't been fucking the whole time everyone else was at the beach. Yamato took a seat at the table behind them, but Taichi leaned against the very armrest Ken had been clinging to.

Forcing Ken to lean into Daisuke instead, tucking himself into Daisuke's side till his head practically rested on his shoulder.

And Daisuke was more than happy to pull him in. He tightened his arm around Ken's shoulders and held him close, leaned his temple against the top of his head, and as much as Ken tried not to relax, it was impossible not to throw himself headfirst into the embrace, into everything Daisuke.

Hikari sent her brother a smile, ignoring the irritation still emanating from his frame. "We were about to play—"

"How long have the two of you been together?"

Ken clamped his eyes shut.

Trust Wallace to touch on a subject everyone else desperately wanted to avoid.

Ken didn't have to turn around to feel the pure annoyance flowing off of Yamato, and beside him, Taichi stiffened. Apparently they really didn't appreciate getting interrupted.

Wallace leaned against the armchair beside the Digimon, a grin on his face. "Or are you just fucking?" He raised an eyebrow when neither responded and sighed. "Oh, none of you are any fun."

Daisuke snorted.

The American shot him an amused look. "You're included in that, you know. Those of you who're getting laid won't talk about it, and the ones who _want_ to are so desperately horny you're going insane."

Hot fingers flexed and clenched at Ken's shoulder. Daisuke's face had turned a bright red.

Wallace tapped his fingers atop his knee. "I mean, at least have the decency to tell me who's on top and who gets fucked." He glanced between Taichi and Yamato, eyes narrowing in consideration. "Hmm, if I had to guess…"

"Don't," Taichi snapped.

But Wallace didn't pause. "I'd wager _you_ "—he pointed directly at Taichi—"like to think you're in control, so you top most of the time." Then, his eyes darted to Yamato in the background. "But even when you're getting fucked in the ass, you're the one actually calling the shots."

Daisuke buried his face in his hand.

Hikari stepped into the space between Wallace and Taichi, clutching the Wii controller to her chest. "Ah, Daisuke-kun, what do you think of playing games at your apartment? Would your parents mind?"

He looked up, face still flushed. "That'd require them to be there."

She licked her lips but hesitated, uncertain how to respond.

"Yeah, sure," Daisuke added, and he finally retracted from Ken's space to rise to his feet. "Yeah, we can hang out there for a bit. Just like another movie night. It's Friday anyway."

The group dispersed quickly after that.

Mimi and Koushiro had undeclared plans—Ken assumed, of course, as they didn't explicitly state they were going to the same place. Jou wanted to get ready for dinner with his girlfriend. Sora made some comment about her mother expecting her at the ikebana school, and they all said their goodbyes.

The only thing Taichi said was, "Fuck, I need my own place," while Yamato remained silent and brooding at the dining table.

Hikari grabbed the Wii and a few games and put them in a bag, and the rest of the younger group gathered their things and readied themselves to head downstairs to the Motomiyas' apartment on the tenth floor.

Ken was the last to stand; instead, he sat on the couch, shrinking into himself, wanting the tension in the room to fade. Minomon floated nearby, but even his sweet partner didn't ease his discomfort.

Then, Daisuke offered his hand. "Come on!" He grinned. "Let's go. Before Wallace decides to make a bigger mess of things, right?"

He swallowed down his hesitation, laid his hand in Daisuke's, and allowed his best friend to pull him to his feet.

Daisuke didn't let go of his hand as they headed for the door.

He didn't let go as they went down the three flights of stairs.

He didn't let go until he had to unlock the door and let everyone inside the Motomiyas' apartment for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, [Daiken Week 2020](https://daikenweek.tumblr.com/post/617763096828805120/daiken-week-2020-prompts) is June 7th through 14th, so this will be the last chapter until Daiken Week is over. Please check out the fics I write for the event!
> 
> And if the UST in this is getting to you as much as it has been to me, I wrote [a smutty one-shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394648) a few days ago and you should probably read it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. It took a bit to get back into the story after being away from it for a couple weeks.
> 
> As a note, I actually upped the rating to Mature on this. There's a note about it on the first chapter. These boys are just Too Damn Horny for Teen rating anymore. *facepalm*

Ken had played the first couple rounds of _Mario Kart_ , racing against Hikari and Miyako and Takeru while Daisuke took a quick shower, forgoing a bath entirely. It hadn't taken him long to rejoin the group, looking refreshed and upbeat.

After a couple races, Wallace wanted to play, and Ken had been the first to offer up his controller, more than willing to give up his spot. Even racing games like this required him to get outside his head to play, and well, that was definitely something he hadn't achieved today.

Daisuke, grinning, hair still damp, just starting to poof out again, patted the open spot next to him on the couch.

Ken tucked himself into the space beside his best friend, and somehow, Daisuke managed to curl around him without touching. "Why'd you stop?" he asked, leaning into Ken. "You're so good at these games."

He shrugged. "After spending the whole day at the beach, I'd rather just relax," he said slowly. "I'm exhausted."

Of course, Daisuke gave him a funny look—Daisuke didn't get worn out the same way and they definitely had different definitions of _relaxation_ —then grinned and finally bridged the gap to slide his arm around Ken's shoulders and tug him close. "All right then. Try to relax."

But how could Ken relax with Daisuke wrapped all around him? How was he supposed to focus on anything but the feel of Daisuke's hot skin against his?

He tried nonetheless.

All too easily, his body accepted the warm embrace, and he slumped his head on Daisuke's shoulder with a happy sigh. Rough fingers began to play with the strands of hair falling on his neck and shoulder, and he stiffened and shifted just enough to keep those fingers away from the back of his neck.

Thankfully, Daisuke seemed to get the picture, his fingers shifting to thread through his hair a little higher, and Ken relaxed once more, letting his eyes flutter shut, melting into him, letting the repetitive motion comfort him.

The music and sound effects of the video game, along with the excited shouts and cries of their friends, filtered through the room, stretching to reach him, but it felt distant now. His surroundings had faded. He was barely aware of anything that wasn't Daisuke's warmth wrapping around him, enveloping him, cleansing him.

No matter what had happened, no matter how long it had been, Daisuke was always there, always kind, always open and honest, always taking care of him, even now.

When Daisuke's fingers traced along the side of his face, nudging the silky hair away from his eyes, he leaned close to Ken's ear and whispered, "Hey, Ken…"

He tried to open his eyes, to stretch, but all that came out was a moan, and he felt himself slipping further into the comfort of Daisuke's warmth.

"I think people are going to head home soon," Daisuke said, voice hushed. "Do you want to get ready to take a shower once everyone's gone?"

Ken took a deep breath and finally managed to force his heavy eyes open, only to find Daisuke leaning in, staring at him. Pink dusted his cheeks at the realization of how close they were, but when Daisuke beamed, he couldn't repress the small smile that spread across his lips.

"You look cute when you're sleeping," Daisuke said with an affectionate laugh, and his thumb rubbed Ken's cheekbone.

His face was so hot he thought he would melt, but he didn't pull away.

Daisuke did.

Ken's gaze fell to his hands, focusing on the way they curled and twisted together, clutching each other. "I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep," he murmured.

Daisuke hummed. "For maybe an hour."

He glanced around the room.

It was dark outside the Motomiyas' balcony, and on the other end of the big sectional couch, Miyako and Hikari were sitting close together and talking quietly, but Miyako kept interrupting the conversation with big yawns. Iori sat on the floor nearby, checking his emails on his phone. Wallace and Takeru, though, had flopped down on the floor in front of the TV, shoulder to shoulder, and were playing a fighting game—the same game Daisuke had played with Wallace the other day. They elbowed each other, pushing and shoving, laughing loudly in the darkened room.

Something about that sight—Takeru and Wallace laughing together—unsettled him on a cellular level.

"You okay?"

Daisuke's hand was back, cupping his face.

This time, Ken pulled away, leaning back from his touch. "You said something about a shower?" he asked, avoiding eye contact.

Daisuke cleared his throat. "Everyone's heading out soon. This is the last round they're playing."

"Yeah," Takeru said, his voice echoing through the living room, "Okaa-san's expecting me."

Wallace hummed his disapproval and nudged Takeru's shoulder. "Aww, but this was just getting interesting. You should stay."

Ken stiffened.

Beside him, Daisuke frowned.

Takeru, though, simply laughed. "Are you asking me to stay the night at someone else's home?"

Wallace delivered an uppercut to Takeru's character and turned to him with a mischievous grin as _KO!_ flashed across the screen. "Oh, come on, like Daisuke minds, right?" He turned toward where Daisuke and Ken were still curled up on the couch, his eyes flashing. "Iori should stay too!"

Iori didn't even look up from the email he was sending. "I'm going home." His voice was firm and steady, leaving no room for argument.

Not that that stopped Wallace.

"Don't say that," he cried, dropping the controller and turning to face him. "You should definitely stay. Just call your parents, right?"

Ken shifted and finally managed to slip his feet off the couch, and without a word, he rose to his feet and strode into Daisuke's open bedroom.

He had no interest in either Takeru or Iori staying the night, but it wasn't exactly his choice. Of course, it wasn't Wallace's choice either, and he could only hope Daisuke would veto the suggestion—or that the ballet Daisuke's parents were seeing at the New National Theatre in Shibuya would magically finish and they'd show up to kick everyone else out.

But for now, he should get ready for a shower like Daisuke had suggested. He had to let Daisuke handle whatever shit Wallace was trying to pull now, and he could let the water wash away the exhaustion of the day.

He grabbed a fresh set of pajamas and ventured out again, pausing in the living room to ask if anyone needed the toilet before he started his shower and bath. Only when everyone told him to go ahead did he slip into the bathroom and lock the door behind him.

The water felt glorious pounding against his bare skin. He spent a long time—probably longer than necessary in retrospect—scrubbing the remnants of sand and grime and _ocean_ from his skin, scrubbing away the stress and fear and anxiety as much as he could.

By the time he dropped into the tub, for the first time all day, he felt fresh and clean and fully relaxed, and he could slide deep into the steaming water, holding his head and shoulders above the waterline. The skin there was tight and pink and stung under the heat—it was ironic that, after badgering Daisuke about wearing sunscreen, Ken himself had made the idiotic decision to get in the water without applying protection.

Thankfully, the burn was mild at best, as they hadn't spent long in the water after Daisuke had rinsed him off.

Ken licked his lips, eyes fluttering shut.

Here in the bath, he could move past the stress of the day. He could ignore the way his stomach had twisted with anxiety when they first reached Odaiba Beach, as the waves crashed against the sand in a slow, steady rhythm that set the hairs on his arms on end. He could ignore the blush on Daisuke's cheeks when he'd caught sight of a half-naked Taichi. He could ignore the way Wallace continually flirted with Daisuke, the way he drove him to respond, to reciprocate.

Instead, the comfort of the bath let him take unsteady breaths as the memories of Daisuke's fingers sliding through the watermelon splatter, his voice dipping low, floated around his head.

 _You're all sticky now_ …

He was probably reading way too much into that, but god, the way Daisuke had spoken and the way he'd touched him, rough finger pads following the contours of his chest and abdomen, pausing right over his rapidly pounding heart.

And the way Daisuke had looked at him…

Like he was something delectable and delicious. Like Daisuke wanted to eat him.

Fuck.

Ken would not be opposed to that. He wouldn't be opposed to Daisuke laying him down, trailing his hands, his lips, his tongue down his naked body and taking him into his mouth, swallowing him whole.

To be fair, there was nothing he would be opposed to Daisuke doing to him.

Not when Daisuke handled him with such care and affection. He'd wiped the juice from his face with a soft, gentle touch, and Ken wanted those fingers to caress every part of him, to cradle him with all the affection he craved, to touch him without fear or hesitation.

Here in the hot water, Ken could embrace those nerve-wracking moments, soak in them, and let his imagination run away with him.

It wasn't difficult to do.

It wasn't difficult to extrapolate from Daisuke's gentle touches, from the way his hands had clenched, from the passion in his chocolate eyes.

It wasn't difficult to feel the hot fingertips on his skin, burning him, searing him, as arousal pumped through his body. It wasn't difficult to imagine the hand cupping his cheek only a little while ago instead cupping a very different cheek, and he wanted more than anything to feel Daisuke's fingers sliding between, playing with him, teasing him, dipping inside.

It wasn't difficult to imagine Daisuke's caresses growing more bold, more intimate, more intoxicating, until Ken was aching with need, painfully hard.

Unfortunately, that part wasn't his imagination.

God, he'd never been so attracted to anyone else like this. Never looked at anyone else like this. Never even been romantically interested in anyone else.

No matter what, it always came back to Daisuke.

He was pure, unadulterated sunshine. He was Ken's light in the darkness, drawing him in like a moth to the flame, calling to him. He was his knight in shining armor, protecting him, caring for him, saving him time and time again. He pushed away the darkness with his optimism, with his selflessness, with his kindness, with his endlessly bright smile.

Ken couldn't look away, couldn't turn his back, even if he wanted to, and dear god, he absolutely did not want to.

He never wanted to look away, never wanted to get lost in anyone else's eyes, never wanted to fall in love with anyone but Daisuke. Because no matter what happened between them—even if they remained best friends for the rest of their lives, not more—there would always be a part of him that belonged to Daisuke, a part of him that ached to be claimed by Daisuke, to be owned by him.

Ken pushed upward out of the water with a sharp whimper, clinging to the sides of the tub.

After everything that had happened today, he was itching to take matters into his own hands, to stroke himself until he came, head filled with nothing but thoughts of Daisuke, Daisuke, Daisuke…

But it was bad form to masturbate in your friend's bathtub.

*

Daisuke couldn't take his eyes off the bathroom door, the bright light shining from the bottom crack.

Ken was in there bathing—he was _naked_ —and Daisuke could not stop thinking about those tiny swim shorts and the endless, smooth skin. He wanted to run his hands across that skin, to taste every pore, to feel Ken against him, skin to skin.

Instead, he had to settle for curling up together on the couch or in his bed.

Which, since it was Ken, was _not_ settling.

Ken was lovely and soft and kind, and he would happily take _any_ time spent with Ken, even if all they did was watch movies and talk and cuddle. He just also happened to desperately want _more_.

"Spying on your boyfriend?"

Daisuke jumped. "Huh?"

When he spun round, the rest of the group was watching him, most notably Wallace, who was much closer than he had been the last time he'd looked.

And who was smiling widely.

"You've been staring at that door since Ken went in there," Wallace said, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "You could always just knock and ask to join. I doubt he'd mind."

His face was on fire, but he refused to let Wallace get the last word. "Stop saying stupid shit."

Not that he was particularly eloquent.

Wallace shrugged. "So how 'bout it?"

"How about what?"

"Takeru and Iori staying the night," he said, like it was obvious. "Jeez, you really have been spacing out."

"I'm going home," Iori said again, unwilling to even consider the idea. In fact, he was already gathering up Upamon from the kitchen area and they were saying their goodbyes. "It's late."

Not far behind Wallace, though, Takeru shrugged, still clutching his controller, even though they'd ended the match a while ago. "I can call my mom if it's cool," he said, nonchalant.

Daisuke didn't particularly want Takeru to spend the night.

They rarely got on that well on a good day, and today had been long and exhausting to say the least. All Daisuke wanted to do was curl up with Ken in his bed and fall asleep with the gentle scent of Ken's hair tickling his nose. He wanted to _immerse_ himself in Ken.

"Do you _have_ a third futon or something, though?" Takeru asked, curiosity lilting his voice. "I didn't even realize you had a second one."

"Uhhh…"

And of course, there was _that_ problem.

Wallace was the only person who knew he and Ken were sharing his bed. Having Takeru spend the night would mean he'd find out. Ken would be so embarrassed, especially since Takeru still made him a little uncomfortable sometimes.

Daisuke frowned. "I'd have to grab a sleeping bag from storage."

A loud yawn echoed throughout the room. On the couch, Miyako was stretching, her mouth open wide, and slowly relaxed again.

Next to her, Hikari glanced around the apartment with a frown. "Speaking of your parents…where are they, Daisuke-kun? Shouldn't they be here?"

He glanced at the clock.

It was getting a bit late, and they were usually here by now. He honestly didn't remember if they had plans tonight, but they must have for them to both be gone all Friday evening.

"They're…out," was all he said with a shrug.

"Would they mind me staying too?" Takeru asked, blond eyebrows arching. "Because something tells me, staying here with you and Wallace-kun and Ichijouji-kun would be _fun_."

Yes, that's exactly what Daisuke was afraid of.

"No, they wouldn't mind," he said slowly, unable to come up with a good reason to deny him.

"We can fit three futons or sleeping bags or whatever in your room, right?" Takeru said.

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "My room isn't _that_ messy, thanks."

"So…?"

He sighed and nodded toward the phone. "Yeah, yeah, call your mom."

Takeru moved to the telephone, and Daisuke slipped down the hallway and into his parents' bedroom. The sleeping bags were tucked away inside their closet—they should've been moved to Jun's old room for storage, but of course, she still hadn't managed to fully move out…typical Jun.

Hikari and Miyako caught him as he was walking back toward his bedroom, big rolled-up sleeping bag tucked under one arm.

"We're heading out," Hikari said, giving him a quick side-hug.

Miyako offered him a tired smile.

Daisuke frowned. "You good to walk home by yourself?"

But Hikari laid her hand on Miyako's shoulder with a gentle smile. "I'm going to make sure she gets home just fine, don't worry."

They waved goodbye one last time before donning their shoes and heading out, and Daisuke returned to the living room. Takeru and Wallace were playing another round of _Tekken 3_. Iori must have already left while he was getting the sleeping bag.

He paused at his bedroom door. "You get the okay?"

Takeru glanced over really quick before returning his attention to the game. "Yeah, Okaa-san said I could stay. We're all going around Odaiba tomorrow anyway, so we might as well start out together."

Daisuke only nodded.

He didn't feel like telling Takeru that he and Ken had no intention of joining the group for their trip down memory lane. Ken didn't want to go, and Daisuke refused to leave him alone to wallow in self-pity, to speculate and wonder, to dwell on the what-ifs—no matter how often Daisuke reprimanded him for it.

"Okay," he said, disinterest leaking into his voice. "I'll set up your bed then. You need something to sleep in?"

But Takeru waved him away.

It didn't take long to pull out the futon and lay the sleeping bag next to it, with plenty of room to walk around and reach everything.

The door creaked as he flattened out the corners.

"It's not ready yet," he called over his shoulder.

The door clicked shut.

Daisuke turned—and froze the moment he saw Ken, still dripping, standing just in front of the closed door. He was wearing a light blue robe, the towel twisted around his hair, a stack of clothes tucked under one arm.

The sight sent a jolt of heat through Daisuke's body.

That was _his_ robe. Ken must've grabbed it from the bathroom closet after he was done. And it's not like Daisuke minded Ken wearing it. He definitely didn't.

If anything, he liked the view a bit too much.

Ken met his eyes, big and dark and wide, and wetted his lips. "Sorry…I didn't realize you were in here."

"You, um, need me to step out?" His voice cracked. "You didn't get dressed yet?"

Daisuke toed toward the door, but Ken didn't move out of the way.

Instead, he shook his head slowly, not wanting to upset the towel wrapped around his head. "No, I just realized I wanted to put on some lotion before dressing for bed. Unfortunately, I left my lotion in my bag."

Daisuke's eyes widened.

A soft blush rose to Ken's cheeks, and he glanced toward the bag tucked under the edge of Daisuke's bed. "If you're still setting things up, go right ahead," he added. "I don't mind if you stay."

Nothing made that point clearer than the moment he twisted the lock into place and padded to the bed.

Daisuke could only watch, crouched on the floor beside the sleeping bag, as Ken knelt down to grab a green bottle of lotion from his bag and reclined on his bed, letting the robe slide open to reveal delicious, smooth legs that seemed to go on forever. Then, he nudged the robe over his shoulders and slipped his arms out, letting the light blue material pool around his waist where it was tied.

The skin on his shoulders was pink—the same pink Ken's face turned when he got flustered or embarrassed. He must've gotten a sunburn.

Staring at his bare chest and legs, stretched out provocatively, was more than enough. But then Ken squeezed a glob of the lotion into his palm, and all hope was lost.

Daisuke couldn't look away.

He didn't want to look away.

Why in the world would he _want_ to look away?

Ken spread the lotion over his chest and up his neck, rubbing it deep into the skin, massaging it gently into the sunburn on his shoulders. He hunched forward and extended his arm around the back, rubbing small circles around the base of his neck and to the sides but purposefully avoiding where his Dark Seed was buried.

Daisuke swallowed and forced himself to take a steadying breath.

He shouldn't be staring at this. Shouldn't be staring at Ken like he wanted to _consume_ him when Ken was so vulnerable, so gentle, so fucking naked.

Okay, well, he wasn't actually naked. The hem of his underwear peeked out from where the robe was still tied at his waist, but those tiny boxer briefs barely counted as covering anything.

Daisuke struggled to take a step toward the door.

He needed to get out of here. Needed to step away from the mesmerizing sight in front of him. Before he did something incredibly reckless and stupid.

Dear god, he was going to fuck everything up if he didn't step away right now.

"Daisuke?"

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

Ken looked up with soft eyes and a tentative smile. "Could you help me?"

"H-how?"

"Come here," Ken requested, patting the mattress beside him. "I need you."

Fuck.

Daisuke wanted to be _needed_ more than anything.

But that obviously wasn't what Ken meant.

He coughed into his shoulder, giving himself an extra couple seconds to organize his thoughts. "So, um," he mumbled, slowly gathering his courage, "what do you need?"

Ken stooped to grab the bottle of lotion again as Daisuke dropped onto the mattress beside him. "I can't quite reach my back, and I know I burned a little there too."

When Ken twisted to display the intoxicating expanse of lovely skin, Daisuke nearly died. He definitely wanted to touch, to feel the smooth texture against his calloused finger pads, to physically assail his senses with everything soft and velvety and so inherently _Ken_.

But Ken dragged one of his hands close and squeezed a large dollop of lotion onto the palm before releasing him. "Thank you," he murmured as Daisuke stared at the ivory lotion in his hand.

After spreading the viscous cream over his palms, he laid his hands on Ken's back, drawing a little gasp from his lips.

Daisuke winced. "Sorry."

Ken shook his head. "It's just cold, but it'll warm up the more you rub it in."

Slowly, Daisuke worked the lotion into his skin. He was especially careful at the edge of his shoulders, not wanting to rub the burn too hard and hurt him, no matter how mild it was.

But there was more than enough lotion on his hands, and he dipped lower, following the prominent line of his spine, tracing the very bones that held Ken together, that kept him whole and beautiful and sitting right here on Daisuke's bed in nothing but a pair of underwear and Daisuke's own bathrobe.

The lotion warmed up like he said, of course, and Ken relaxed under his touch, shoulders slackening, breath slow and steady. He spread the lotion wide, using the opportunity to caress anything and everything he could reach—within reason. As he massaged, Daisuke's thumbs stumbled upon a knot just under one shoulder blade. He worked at it, harder and rougher until the muscle began to loosen.

Ken rolled his head forward, leaning into Daisuke's touch, and the towel on his head shifted loose with the movement and started to unwind.

A low moan slipped from his perfect lips.

Daisuke stilled, body stiffening.

Oh, fuck.

That…that was…

Ken shifted just enough to cast a sultry look over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded, breath quivering. "That feels good, Daisuke…" A crooked smile tugged at his parted lips, glistening with saliva. "Didn't realize you were so good at this."

Dear god, how could he just…?

Trembling with emotion, Daisuke couldn't do anything but work his fingers into the smooth skin, massaging deep at the muscles and the bones, touching all the parts he desperately wanted to play with. But the touching only left his body begging for more contact.

He bit his lip, trying to focus on the task.

Finally, Ken laid a hand on his thigh, squeezing to catch his attention, and turned round with an affectionate smile. "I think you rubbed it all in, Daisuke," he said, voice soft and gentle and low. "You did a while ago."

Daisuke stopped. "Oh."

"Can we go to bed now?" Ken whispered.

He scooted back, and Ken slipped from his grasp, untying the waist and leaving the robe behind, and tugged on the pajamas he'd taken to the bathroom with him earlier.

Daisuke was entranced by the movements, by the pale skin and the splotches of pink on his shoulders.

Only Ken could get a stupid sunburn and still be utterly adorable.

Of course, _only Ken_ could do a lot of things that wouldn't normally be cute or endearing, and Daisuke was here for all of it. He would stay at Ken's side no matter what.

Ken slipped from the room momentarily, returning with his hair down and combed into its proper place. He dropped onto the edge of the bed again, a soft smile on his perfect lips, and said, "I think I'm ready for bed…if that's all right…" He bit his lip, a blush rising to his cheeks. "Obviously, you don't have to if you're not tired, but I'd…prefer you here with me."

Daisuke could only nod, and as Ken slipped under the covers, getting comfortable, he stripped down his boxers and flipped off the light switch.

Fuck Wallace and Takeru.

They could come to bed later.

Or not at all.

Literally all he wanted was the beautiful boy curled up in his bed, waiting for him. He didn't want to make Ken wait any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will definitely not take this long, I promise. Daiken Week wore me out—I wrote 30,000 words for the seven one-shots I published—and I needed a break.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A soft, horny, angsty bedtime story...
> 
> (Also, I've officially been working on this for four months. How did that happen?)

Ken could not sleep.

With the events of the day, that wasn't surprising.

Plus, the fact that Daisuke was pressed firmly against his side, one arm wrapped around his abdomen, close enough they were practically sealed together, trapping Ken's arm under his neck, did not help.

Not when he couldn't get those ridiculous bath-time fantasies out of his head. He'd gotten carried away, gotten so entranced by the memories of the day, by Daisuke's forwardness, his open affection. The idea that his best friend could so easily turn him on made shame and nausea well in his stomach, but no amount of self-loathing could erase these traitorous feelings.

Not when he couldn't stop thinking about Daisuke's hands massaging down the vertebrae of his spine, digging deep at his shoulder blades. He hadn't meant to get so into it, to let himself enjoy it to the point he actually moaned, but when Daisuke's hot breath had spanned across his skin, he'd gone mad with the heat.

Not when Daisuke's exhalations brushed the sensitive skin of his neck, tickling and tingling and sending a tiny bolt of pleasure through his body. His hairs stood on end, and that was hardly the only part of him displaying a physical reaction.

God, he was still hard.

It had faded and returned and faded and returned but never gone away completely. With Daisuke flush against him, distracting him, overwhelming his thoughts and desires, it was impossible to will away, impossible to avoid.

The fact that Daisuke had come to bed in nothing but his boxers tonight didn't help.

Even in the dark, the wide expanse of golden skin was entrancing and sexy, and Ken wanted to run his hands over every part of him, to sink under his skin and feel him from the inside.

With a trembling breath, he reached down to adjust himself—then stiffened as one of Daisuke's legs hooked between his, thick thigh pressing against his arousal through his pajama pants.

A whimper slipped out.

Oh, god, that definitely didn't help.

He had a distinct desire to roll his hips, to rock his body with that hard thigh, to rut against the pressure of Daisuke, to let himself be overwhelmed by his arousal, built up over the day and no longer able to be contained.

He clamped his eyes shut, trying to control himself.

Because if he couldn't, he'd definitely have to take a bathroom break to take care of himself, and he really didn't want to have to do that.

The door creaked open, light pooling into the room momentarily.

Ken closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried not to think about where Daisuke's leg was now, prayed Wallace and Takeru wouldn't realize he was still awake nearly an hour after bedtime.

"Since when does Daisuke-kun go to sleep this early?" Takeru whispered.

Wallace stifled a laugh, and the light faded as the door clicked shut again. "Since he had a reason to…"

Pale light flashed around the room—someone must've been using the light of their phone—and Ken tried not to flinch, not to react, not to give anything away, as it passed over him.

" _Oh_." Takeru inhaled sharply. "Man, they're really… _touching_."

Fabric shifted and moved as they settled into their makeshift beds, and the light disappeared again.

Wallace snickered, and the blankets rustled. "You have no idea."

"That so?"

"Didn't you see them on the couch? They're always touching and cuddling and looking at each other when the other one isn't paying attention." He snorted. "Want to bet how much longer until they just break down and fuck like rabbits?"

Takeru laughed but didn't take him up on that offer. "Must be pretty frustrating, huh?"

Wallace groaned, and Ken's grip tightened on the sheets at Daisuke's back—that sounded far too sexual. "God, if they don't do something soon, I'm going to have to."

A quiet snicker. "Okay, important question: Which one would you sleep with?"

"Fuck," Wallace moaned. "I have to choose?"

Takeru snorted, trying to cover up the sound midway through. "You want both?"

"Okay, okay…" The blankets rustled again, sliding and shifting. "Daisuke is all action. You know, passionate, determined, instinctual. You know he'd throw himself fully into sex, really give it his all…"

And Ken had no doubts about that.

Those were some of Daisuke's best traits. He was the embodiment of determination and instincts and _passion_ , and with his hot body flush against him, Ken could barely focus on anything but all that bare skin. It was beautiful and all on display, all right up against his own body, and it pulsed like a fire through his veins.

How was he ever supposed to think about anything else? How was he supposed to want anything but more of their skin touching, more of their bodies twisted together, more of their breath swirling and mixing? More of Daisuke?

And how in the world was he supposed to sleep like this?

"But I also get the impression he'd want to top," Wallace added with a defeated sigh. "And that's not really my style."

Takeru stifled a snort. "And Ichijouji-kun? What about him?"

Ken tried not to breathe.

"Ohhh…" Wallace sighed dramatically. "But Ken—he's absolutely gorgeous. He's graceful, gentle, and incredibly sexy. All prim and proper and clean, and dear god, I want to make him _dirty_."

Okay.

Now, Ken couldn't breathe even if he wanted to.

Takeru was oddly silent at first. "And how would you do that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know…" The smirk was evident in his tone. "And what about you? I've seen you look at Ken too."

An awkward chuckle reverberated through the room.

Everything seemed too loud and too much.

Ken was fairly certain he was suffocating. His fingers dug into the sheets, dug into the mattress, and he dragged his arm to finally wrap around Daisuke and hold him, letting the heat of Daisuke's back permeate his skin.

"Oh, you know, I'm generally more into girls," Takeru murmured. "But like you said, Ichijouji-kun is quite beautiful, and you haven't seen him play judo or soccer. He's very flexible—made it hard not to _think_ about things. So yeah, I would…if…"

Wallace chuckled. "If Daisuke wouldn't murder you for even considering touching him."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration."

Ken clung to Daisuke, trying to bury himself until this whole thing went away, until Wallace and Takeru fell asleep, until they weren't discussing whether they'd have sex with him, until he wasn't _turned on_ while they were having this conversation.

"Only a little bit," Wallace said.

Takeru laughed. "Really, though, I can't think of a single person who _wouldn't_ want to sleep with Ichijouji-kun. But everyone knows the only person who stands a chance is Daisuke-kun. I mean, you saw them on the beach earlier."

"Oh, did I ever." A quiet laugh escaped Wallace's mouth. "Pretty sure Daisuke was ready to tear off his tiny swim trunks and fuck him right there, not even considering where the sand would go, and fuck, I definitely would've been down to watch."

Breath shallow, Ken tightened his grip on Daisuke, twisting to press his cheek to the top of Daisuke's head, to inhale the scent of his clean hair, to find comfort in the natural Daisuke smell underneath.

A soft sigh slipped from Daisuke's lips, breath tickling Ken's collar, and Daisuke shifted closer, squeezing him, nuzzling his nose in his neck, thigh shifting farther up—Ken hadn't even realized Daisuke _could_ get closer.

Ken bit his lip to keep from moaning.

Somehow, despite the very awkward conversation happening on the floor, his arousal had only faded slightly, and Daisuke was so close it hurt. But not nearly close enough. He wanted Daisuke on top of him, inside him, buried deep until they were impossible to separate.

Wallace and Takeru were still talking, and it took a moment to register what they were saying…

"You know," Takeru murmured, "I sometimes wonder what would happen if they weren't so codependent. It can't be healthy for them to rely on each other so much when nothing's ever going to happen there. They're too scared to take that leap, no matter how they actually feel."

Wallace remained silent for a moment. "You think so?" he asked, voice even smaller than a whisper.

"Maybe I'm reading too much into it." He sighed. "But they're my friends, and I worry they'll miss opportunities because they're so caught up in each other. I know we're still in high school and most people don't do relationships now anyway, but Ichijouji-kun could've easily dated twenty different people already, guys or girls."

"What about Daisuke?"

Takeru snorted. "He might have a bit more realistic expectations if he weren't obsessed with Ichijouji-kun. Honestly, he'd be better off."

"You think so?"

"They should really just fuck and get it over. That way, they can finally move on."

"You sure that's not just your desire to make a move on Ken coming through?" There was a sly lilt to Wallace's voice.

Takeru laughed a bit too loudly—Daisuke twitched and grunted. "Like I said, I wouldn't be averse to something happening with Ichijouji-kun, but that's even less likely than him and Daisuke-kun." He let out a little, amused sigh. "Honestly, though, what are the odds of finding the love of your life when you're ten years old, you know?"

If anything could kill his erection for good, that was it.

Ken blinked back the tears stinging his eyes, trying to swallow and breathe despite the painful ache in his throat and throb in his heart.

He'd long wrestled with the idea that his friendship with Daisuke was one-sided, that he relied on him too much, that he _needed_ him more than was healthy.

He'd voiced that thought plenty when they were younger, but Daisuke had refuted him at every turn, insisting, no matter what, that he was worthy of friendship, of affection, of care, of love. He'd gotten tired of how Daisuke's kindness affected him, how it made him feel soft and happy and _loved_ , even as he struggled to agree with the sentiment.

It had taken years to divest himself of the derisive little voice that told him he didn't deserve Daisuke's friendship, that told him he was unworthy. Every once in a while, it still reared its ugly head, but he'd long ago managed to ignore it in those moments.

But it was particularly hard to ignore now.

Would Daisuke be better off without him? Was Ken that bad for him? Would things really be better if they weren't so intertwined, if they weren't so caught up in each other, if they moved on?

What would _moving on_ from Daisuke even look like?

Ken wasn't sure that was possible.

How could they break the bond Jogress had forged between them? How could they possibly destroy that unity?

Why would anyone _want_ to?

At the times when Ken couldn't believe—in himself, in the team, in the objective—he could believe in Daisuke. He knew Daisuke was right there with him, reassuring him, their hearts beating in tune, and Daisuke always insisted Ken did the same for him, helped him and supported him when no one else would.

But it went deeper than that.

The idea that Ken had Daisuke's heart connected to his, that they could still be in sync even after two years of not using Jogress evolution, made him lightheaded and undeniably happy. The idea that their hearts _belonged_ together was the most intimate, the most powerful feeling he'd ever experienced.

Without that, he never would've been able to accept how much he truly cared for Daisuke, how much he was in love with him.

But the question remained.

Did Daisuke feel the same? Did he feel the same about Jogress? Did he feel the same about Ken as Ken felt about him?

 _I can't think of a single person who_ wouldn't _want to sleep with Ichijouji-kun…_

Takeru's words were hardly the first time he'd heard that sentiment. Wallace himself had uttered something similar not too long ago, and that moment had shaken him deeply.

He lifted a hand to wipe away the tears, flowing despite his attempts to force them down.

It took a moment to realize the room had fallen into silence, aside from the slow, steady breathing of the three other occupants. Ken had no idea how long he'd been lost in his own thoughts, but apparently it'd been long enough that Wallace and Takeru had fallen asleep as well.

Daisuke shifted, the bed squeaking, and pulled him closer, closer, closer.

Finally, Ken allowed himself to turn just enough to run his fingers through Daisuke's mussed hair, to trace his thumb over the edge of his face, curving along his jaw. Daisuke's brow twitched, but he only buried his face deeper into Ken's neck.

Ken smiled despite the tears, forced himself to hold in his laugh, cupped Daisuke's cheek.

In this position, he couldn't turn to see him directly, to reach him better, but he held his face in his hand and cocked his head so his temple rested against Daisuke's forehead.

"I love you," he murmured, lips brushing the soft messy hair.

He couldn't imagine breaking their Jogress bond, doubted he could function if they ever did, but if that was what _Daisuke_ wanted, if that was what was best for _Daisuke_ , he would try.

Daisuke's breath stuttered, and a quiet groan rumbled in his throat. He shifted again, then his lips latched on to Ken's throat, covering it with a sloppy kiss. It was too much saliva and too much teeth, but Ken froze and his eyes slid shut, rolling into the back of his head. Daisuke's mouth sent shivers down his spine, overwhelmed him with sensations.

"Mmm, go back to sleep, Ken," Daisuke mumbled against his sensitive skin, nosing the wet spot he'd just kissed.

Had Daisuke heard him? Would he remember that?

More importantly, how the fuck was Ken supposed to be able to sleep now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, please look at the [lovely art](https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/82663262) my friend made based on this chapter. Thank you, darling!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minomon decided to take this story somewhere I didn't intend, but it's okay because he's a little cutie and he can have whatever the hell he wants.

Everything was particularly bright and enthralling when Daisuke woke up.

Normally, it took him a while to properly wake up, and he was never in a good mood until he'd eaten. But today, he woke up refreshed and content and maybe even a bit giddy.

The sun was shining, his room still somehow looked clean after Ken had helped him organize the other day, and—speaking of Ken—he was curled up in his arms and looked absolutely beautiful, even with sleep crusting the corners of his eyes.

Ken always looked pretty, but Daisuke loved looking at him before he hid everything away behind his formal facade.

Here, he was soft and delicate and vulnerable. The way his silky hair splayed across their big shared pillow, tousled and disheveled, made Daisuke's stomach do flips—Ken's hair always looked perfect, and he wanted to tangle his hands in those dark strands, twist them around his fingers, yank on them just enough to draw a gasp from pink parted lips—and the gentle rise and fall of his chest made Daisuke want to press his ear to that chest and listen to the steady beat within, to trail his lips over his heart and wake him with bruising kisses along his neck and collarbone.

Instead, he simply laid his hand atop Ken's chest and felt the gentle _thump thump_ of his heart pulsing up through his hand and arm, and he pressed close enough to rest his forehead to Ken's temple. "Ken…" he murmured in his ear. "It's time to wake up."

Ken released a soft moan and turned to smash their chests together, trapping Daisuke's hand between them.

They were forehead to forehead now, noses touching, and Daisuke couldn't think of anything but closing the distance and teasing those succulent lips into a heady kiss. He wanted Ken to wake up moaning his name, already scraping sharp nails down his back, rocking their hips together in a haphazard rhythm.

"Ken…?"

Luscious eyelashes fluttered, but his eyes didn't open yet.

Daisuke tugged his hand free, enjoying the _thunk_ of their chests finally coming into contact, and dropped the hand onto Ken's hip and squeezed. "Wake up, Ken."

He shook his head, the tousled strands fluttering with the movement. "Can't," he mumbled. "Too tired."

Laughter bubbled from Daisuke's lips. "How are you still tired?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Oh." He frowned. "Sleeping in isn't going to help you fall asleep tonight, though, right?"

Ken sighed, resigned, but tucked his head under Daisuke's, blocking out the light.

"Hmm…" He drew languorous circles at his hip where Ken's pajama top had ridden up, enjoying the smooth skin under his calloused fingers, relishing the way his hips shimmied at the touch. "If you get up, I'll make you pancakes. Or tamagoyaki." He tilted his head to whisper in Ken's ear. "Which do you want?"

Ken leaned back to look at him so fast their hips knocked together—Daisuke inhaled sharply. "Can I have both?" Where he'd previously been unwilling to open his eyes, they were now wide and keen and sparkling.

God.

Daisuke wanted to kiss him like he had in his dream. He wanted to kiss him and never stop kissing him. He wanted to hear Ken say those three little words, to mean them.

He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

A smile spread across Daisuke's face, and he pushed up into a sitting position. "Come on then." He offered his hand, and Ken, pink coloring his cheeks, hesitantly took it and allowed him to pull him up as well. "Sit at the table while I cook."

He took a moment to tug on a fresh T-shirt from his dresser before leading Ken from the bedroom.

Wallace and Takeru, along with all their Digimon, were sitting on the sectional couch watching the news. They looked over when Daisuke and Ken slipped into the room, and Chibimon bounced over, a little sluggish, probably tired, demanding food, Minomon not far behind.

Ken knelt down with a gentle smile and pulled both baby Digimon against his chest. "Good morning," he murmured, holding them close.

Daisuke guided them toward the kitchen, hand on Ken's lower back, and pushed in his chair when he sat at the table beside Daisuke's dad, who was reading the newspaper while munching on an onigiri.

"You know," his mother called from the kitchen, voice clipped, "you could've told us you were having another friend over." Shoulders tense, she didn't even glance over. "How do you expect me to feed everyone?"

He joined her in the kitchen and nudged her away from the fridge before she could pull out the container of onigiri again. "Don't worry about it, Okaa-san," he said with a smile. "I'm making breakfast." He grabbed a couple ingredients before letting the door slide shut.

Daisuke kept glancing up at Ken and their Digimon as he whipped up some batter and scrambled the eggs with the dashi.

Somehow, Ken managed to look completely at ease seated between his parents, as long as Minomon and Chibimon were climbing all over him. The Digimon made him laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners, cheeks a warm pink, and Daisuke nearly burned the first layer of eggs because he kept staring at Ken's pretty smile.

By the time food was ready, though, his parents had moved on with their day.

Ken stiffened as Wallace and Takeru took the seats on either side of him, but he still smiled when Daisuke slid a plate with fluffy pancakes and tamagoyaki in front of him.

Daisuke had to snatch Chibimon and Minomon away so they didn't scarf down his food. "Don't worry, little guys," he said, dropping them onto the open seat. "I've something just for you."

"Where's my food?" Wallace called after him as he jumped back into the kitchen.

But Daisuke returned with three more plates—none of them as nice-looking at Ken's—and placed them on the table. "Don't be ungrateful," Daisuke said, shooting his American friend a glare, and Wallace just stuck out his tongue.

Patamon and Terriermon happily shared their partners' meals, but Chibimon always required its own plate—it was as greedy as Daisuke himself—and Minomon had long ago taken to sharing with its partner Digimon. Besides, Daisuke much preferred an uninterrupted view of Ken while he tried his food…while he tried _Daisuke's_ food.

He leaned against the counter with his own plate, but all he could focus on was Ken.

Daisuke had managed to find the end of their heavy cream while making the pancakes and had thrown together some whipped cream and cut up some fruit to go with it.

He…had some regrets now.

Ken's eyes fell shut as he slid the fluffy pancake into his mouth, the cream catching on his upper lip, smearing as he chewed. And when he swallowed, his eyes flashed open, catching Daisuke's, holding his gaze, as he licked the cream off his lips.

Daisuke's mouth went dry. His body felt hot.

He wanted to be the one lapping the cream off of that perfect mouth, wanted to suck that pink lip into his mouth and clean it off until Ken's lips were swollen from his kisses. To be fair, he'd happily lick cream off any of Ken's body parts, and—

Nope.

Bad train of thought.

"Daisuke-kun!"

He blinked to clear his vision.

Takeru was looking at him with an amused glower. "Where are you, Daisuke-kun?"

Daisuke grinned before finally slicing into his own food. "What were you saying?"

"Well," Takeru said, leaning back in his chair mid-bite, "Hikari-chan and I are supposed to meet Onii-chan and Taichi-san at Aqua City at ten. You guys going to join us?"

Daisuke's eyes sought out Ken, who looked so nervous he didn't realize his next bite spread a daub of whipped cream on his nose. "I dunno," Daisuke said slowly, his eyes glued to Ken's adorable nose. "We kind of have other plans for the day, don't we, Ken?"

Ken froze, eyes wide, mouth forming a tiny _O_.

"Really?" Takeru frowned. "You made other plans for our memorial weekend?"

Eyes narrowed, Daisuke set his plate of barely eaten food on the counter behind him and turned to tell Takeru exactly what he thought of their idiotic memorial weekend, but Takeru leaned close to Ken, hand extended with a napkin to wipe away the cream from his nose.

Ken's face turned bright red, and he dropped his gaze to the table.

Something about that reaction unsettled Daisuke deep in his stomach. Ken wasn't supposed to blush that much or get that embarrassed from something _Takeru_ did. Ken shouldn't react that fiercely.

"Yeah, we did," Daisuke snapped, drawing their gazes again.

Flushing even brighter, Ken met his gaze, then immediately looked down again.

But Takeru sent him an unimpressed glance Daisuke's way before turning his attention to Wallace, whose food was nearly gone. "What about you, Wallace-san? Are you joining them for their _plans_?"

Fuck.

Daisuke hadn't thought of that.

He didn't care either way, but they'd never said anything to Wallace about their plans not to join the rest of the gang for their masochistic memorial walk around Tokyo.

But Wallace didn't even look over before asking, "Is that an invitation?"

Takeru shrugged. "You wouldn't be in the way."

Wallace released a short laugh. "Yeah, all right. Sounds like fun."

*

The second Daisuke's bedroom door closed behind them, trapping them in there _alone_ , Ken thought he was going to throw up.

Okay, they weren't alone.

Thankfully, they still had Minomon and Chibimon to keep them company.

The two baby Digimon were playing together on the bed, bouncing and hopping all over each other, while Daisuke rolled up the sleeping bag and futon and pushed them away in his closet.

Well, except they weren't bouncing and hopping all over each other. They were just sitting next to each other, giggling and looking tired. Even though they'd just had a nap while Wallace and Takeru got ready to leave.

Daisuke closed his closet and dropped down on the bed, but his happy face quickly transformed into a frown. He reached out to cup Chibimon's face. "You all right, buddy? You look exhausted."

Chibimon sent him a sleepy grin.

Beside it, Minomon scooted forward and rested against Daisuke's wrist. "It's been a while since we went to the Digital World."

"Oh no!" Ken darted to the bed and cupped Minomon to his chest. "We can open a gate and all of us—"

"Ken-chan," Minomon interrupted, and he fell silent. "You and Daisuke stay here. Chibimon and I will go to the Digital World together."

Ken's face fell, and he trailed over to the big windows leading to Daisuke's balcony. "Are you sure?" he murmured, tucking his head low. He never liked it when they had to separate, least of all when it wasn't strictly necessary, but it made sense that the two Digimon needed more than a couple hours in the Digital World with how run down they were acting this early in the day.

But Minomon pushed up to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. "Maybe you'll finally be able to kiss Daisuke so the two of you can Jogress."

Heat rose to his cheeks, and he cast a hesitant glance toward his best friend.

Daisuke was poking Chibimon's belly, making the tiny blue Digimon giggle, but even that didn't manage to get its energy levels up.

But they both froze the moment Daisuke's phone, sitting atop his desk, began to ring.

He stretched across the head of the bed to grab the device and frowned when he saw the caller. "It's Takeru," he mumbled before answering. "Yeah?"

Ken held Minomon closer, cradling him in his arms, clinging to the tiny Digimon for comfort.

"Huh?" Confusion laced his voice. "You sure?"

That confusion was not making Ken feel any better.

"Yeah, sure. If you think that's best." Daisuke nodded along thoughtfully. "All right, see you tomorrow sometime."

When he hung up, Daisuke turned to him with an uncertain frown.

"What did Takeru-san have to say?" Ken murmured, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

"That was Wallace." He shook his head, the furrow in his brow deepening. "He said they'll probably be out late because they're going out to Shibuya this afternoon, and he doesn't want to come in late and wake up my parents."

His mouth went dry. "What are you saying?"

"He's staying the night with Takeru."

Ken swallowed, trying to wet his throat, but it didn't help. "Oh," was all he managed to say.

But in his arms, Minomon broke into a huge smile and declared, "Now you can definitely Jogress!"


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This chapter has a little bit of something new for the last scene. It'll only happen a few times, but it's an important part of the story.
> 
> Now start reading and enjoy the horny...

This time, when Daisuke closed his bedroom door after they sent Minomon and Chibimon through the Digital Gate, they truly were alone.

Yes, Daisuke's mother was still there, but she mostly left them alone these days, especially during break, which they were endlessly thankful for. The Motomiyas, though, were notorious for not knowing how to keep their nose out of each other's business, which was why Daisuke then twisted the lock into place.

Eyes glued to that doorknob, Ken dropped onto his bed, hunching in on himself, rigid and on edge.

He was hopelessly torn between _wanting_ to be alone with Daisuke and being _scared_ to be alone with Daisuke, and he no longer had Minomon to cling to or even Wallace to act as an emotional buffer.

Daisuke turned to him with a grin. "See, we're still getting to spend lots of time together, just us," he declared.

Pink dusted Ken's cheeks, and he looked down at his hands. "Yes."

"So…" He threw himself on the bed, stretching out behind Ken, tucking his hands under his head and spreading his legs to take up the entire bottom half of the bed. "What do you want to do?"

Ken focused on his hands, clasped atop his lap, desperately trying to ignore the heat radiating off his best friend. "I don't know. I can't think of anything."

Daisuke huffed.

Then hands wrapped around Ken's waist and yanked him onto the mattress, smashing him flush against Daisuke's side, bumping their heads together.

Ken gasped and clenched his eyes shut, too nervous to open them, too anxious to look at Daisuke this close up. If he looked at him, so near they could see every pore, he knew he'd want to kiss him, want to close that minimal distance till more than just their breaths mingled.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

Daisuke grumbled and twisted to face him properly, the bed creaking underneath them. "Ken, look at me."

He bit his lip but didn't open his eyes.

"Fine." Daisuke shifted just barely. "I'll just have to take matters into my own hands. You're lucky you're not ticklish, you know."

Ken's whole body went tense.

Honestly, he wished he _were_ ticklish. At least then Daisuke's next move would be predictable, but even with his eyes clamped shut, Ken could feel the mattress's every shift and tremble. He could at least prepare for something.

He was expecting something big and bold and ridiculous, but Daisuke's calloused thumb traced slowly over his eyebrow and curved around his eye, following the ridge of his cheekbone, then down the side of his face to his jaw. Despite his normally exaggerated behavior, Daisuke's hand was excruciatingly gentle, even as he slid along his jawline and dragged his thumb over Ken's mouth, parting the lips just enough he could dart his tongue out and taste the remnants of breakfast on his fingers.

Daisuke inhaled sharply.

Yet, he rubbed along his bottom lip, smearing the saliva, and in response, Ken opened his mouth wider and nipped the tip of his thumb, pressing his teeth into the skin a knuckle deep, digging in as a warning.

" _Ken_ ," he mumbled, voice dipping low.

He released his thumb immediately, and Daisuke dragged it down, down, down, trailing saliva over his chin, along his throat, over his collarbone, only stopping when he got to the hem of his V-neck. Then, he flattened his hand palm over Ken's heart, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt, tickling the sensitive skin.

"Daisuke…" Ken's breath trembled, and he bit his lip, trying to keep himself in check. "What are you doing?"

"Something's wrong. Talk to me."

He took a shaky breath, but there was nothing to say, nothing to bring up.

"What did Minomon mean when he was talking about Jogress?"

Heat rose to his cheeks. "It's not important," he murmured.

"Ken," Daisuke snapped, his fingers clenching into a fist, nails scraping across his skin in the process, sending shivers through Ken's body. "Stop lying to me."

"It's nothing," he insisted.

A hot hand gripped his upper arm, pushing him over, holding him down against the mattress. Daisuke moved with him, curling on top of him, but the bed was too small. They toppled off the edge, falling into a heap, but Daisuke was quicker.

When Ken finally opened his eyes, Daisuke had him pinned to the hardwood floor, arms held down by his wrists, and he straddled his hips, keeping him in place.

Daisuke grinned proudly. "There you are!"

Ken narrowed his eyes, determining the quickest escape route—flipping Daisuke off of him would be a cinch—but his best friend dropped down, leaning over him till their foreheads and noses nearly touched, and he no longer wanted to escape the hold.

"Well?" Daisuke sent him a tiny smirk. "Are you ready to be honest with me? To talk to me?"

But Ken kept his mouth sealed shut.

After a long minute, Daisuke pulled back with a sigh, releasing Ken's wrists and sitting up, still atop his core, sending electric jolts down his spine. "It's just us. What are you scared of? Don't you trust me?"

He swallowed and brought his arms over his chest, hugging himself. "Do you think…?" His eyes fluttered shut. "Do you think we depend on each other too much? Do I hold you ba—?"

"Are you back on _that_?" Daisuke scoffed, and he leaned over him again, planting his hands on either side of his head. "Seriously, Ken, no one—and I mean _no one_ —deserves friendship more than you."

"But—"

Daisuke slapped a hand over his mouth. "Shut up. If you're going to argue with me, just shut up."

Ken stared up at him, eyes wide, and gave a short nod.

"You've been there for me more than anyone," Daisuke said, pushing his hand away from his mouth and into his shimmering hair, splaying across the hardwood beneath them. "You trusted me, believed in me, supported me—before anyone else, even the people who were with me from the beginning, even my parents, my family."

Tears stung his eyes, but Daisuke wiped away the droplets as they formed.

"Can't you feel it?" He withdrew from Ken's face to lay his hand directly over Ken's rapidly beating heart. "Don't you feel it in here? Don't you feel how important you are to me? How much you mean to me?" He shook his head, resigned. "You think you rely on me too much, but I rely on you too. _I need you too_."

The tears flowed freely from Ken's eyes, streaming down the sides of his face, wetting the hair at his temple, catching in the curves of his ears, but he couldn't stop.

Hesitantly, he stretched out his hand to lay his palm over Daisuke's chest as well, relishing the firm, steady beat inside his chest, soaking up his warmth and his friendship and his affection, seeking out the comfort of his sunshine. "Thank you," he murmured.

Daisuke hunched down, looking him straight in the eye.

It wouldn't take much effort for Ken to bridge that distance, to close the gap until their mouths met and melded into one. Feeling their heartbeats together, knowing that Daisuke was feeling it as well, gave him courage, and he gripped Daisuke's arm with his free hand, not daring to separate himself from the reassuring _thump_ inside his chest, and started to push up.

"Ken," Daisuke said, catching his gaze and smiling, "you are my best friend. You have been for years. And there is nothing—and I mean _nothing_ —in the world that could change that, okay? You never have to worry about that."

He dropped back, letting himself lie flat on the floor, hand dropping beside him, and nodded.

His best friend.

Daisuke's best friend.

He certainly didn't want to be anyone else's best friend, but the words stung in a way they never had, in a way he'd never allowed himself to feel before.

True, he never wanted to stop being Daisuke's best friend, but the words had an uncomfortable finality to them. They felt like a dismissal, a rejection. Because if there was nothing in the world that could change their best friend status, then there was no hope of anything more.

Kissing him seemed futile under the circumstances.

And yet, Ken was positive Daisuke was attracted to him. Wallace and Takeru were too. Hell, Miyako insisted Daisuke had feelings for him, though that seemed increasingly far-fetched.

But that didn't seem to matter now.

Daisuke was his best friend, always would be, and definitely wouldn't be anything more. If anything happened between them, if Ken were to kiss him now, it would never be anything more than that, more than a kiss, more than physical attraction.

And Daisuke had no idea how much that hurt.

*

Later that evening, Takeru led Wallace and Hikari back to his apartment.

The day had been rather awkward—Yamato and Taichi hadn't been too keen on Wallace tagging along for their memorial walk, but they had long since separated, probably to do things no one here seemed interested in talking about (though Wallace would've paid good money for some goddamn _details_ ) since Yamato made it quite clear his dad was working late tonight—and even though it wasn't past eight o'clock, Wallace was happy he'd finally be able to curl up somewhere comfy and relax.

Unfortunately, the Takaishis did not seem to have a living room.

The apartment was smaller than Daisuke's but looked nicer, though the building seemed to be newer. Takeru's mother was very organized, and the home reflected that.

All the same, Wallace would've preferred to sit on a couch instead of one of their dining chairs.

"How has your stay been?" Hikari, all soft and sweet, sat on the opposite side of the table, her hands clasped around her water glass. "Is staying with Daisuke-kun okay?"

Wallace leaned the chair back on its hind legs with a laugh. "I've been here for a week and a half now. I'm fairly certain I'm going to survive the rest of my stay, no problem." 

Takeru took the seat beside him, carefully avoiding sitting beside Hikari. "Really?"

He snorted. "What does _that_ mean?"

With a shrug, Takeru said, "Just thinking about our conversation last night."

"What conversation?" Hikari pursed her lips, eyes darting between them.

Wallace frowned. "He doesn't think Daisuke and Ken would be able to have a lasting relationship."

Hikari slapped her palm on the table. "Did you _say_ that to them, Takeru?"

He leaned back, away from her sudden fury. "What? No, of course not!"

The irritation in her big brown eyes faded slowly but not entirely—Wallace got the distinct impression Hikari was not someone you'd want to cross—and she withdrew her hand from the middle of the table. "Good," she said, voice short. "See that you don't."

"Okay, I get your point," Wallace said thoughtfully, glancing at his blond friend, curiously studying the tension between him and Hikari. "Most people probably don't find the love of their life so young, but that doesn't mean they're doomed to fail."

"They're not," Hikari insisted.

Takeru shrugged. "You don't know that, Hikari-chan. We don't know if they'll work out or fail or never even try."

"But you could have a little faith in our friends." She moved her water glass away and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, the yellow summer dress contrasting against her skin. "What happened to your hope?"

A scowl pulled at his mouth. "That's low. Especially from you."

Hikari turned her attention to Wallace, belligerently so. "Well, I _do_ believe." She clenched her hand into a fist, firm and steady. "All it takes is _looking_ at them to know they're in love, and I believe they'll figure it out together."

Wallace grimaced. "I dunno, they're both pretty stupid."

Her eyes narrowed into a deep glare.

He couldn't help but laugh. "I just mean, I don't know if they'll figure it out together, _on their own_. You see them—they hang off each other, hold each other, watch each other, fantasize about each other, and hell, they even sleep in the same bed now—"

Brown eyes widened, and Hikari scooted forward in her chair. "They _do_? Since when?"

"They have the whole time I've been here." Wallace heaved a sigh. "I really don't know what to do with them. They cuddle the whole night through, but somehow they can't seem to figure out how the other person feels."

She smirked. "So they might need a little push in the right direction. I don't see anything wrong with that."

"Really?"

"Hikari-chan, you can't be serious," Takeru said with a frown. "You shouldn't meddle—"

"You," Wallace said, casting him an accusatory glance before Hikari could even consider responding, "think they should fuck and move on, so wouldn't this just be a fun way to figure out which one of you is right?"

Amusement creased the corners of her eyes, and Hikari let out a soft laugh, even as Takeru scowled at him.

Wallace shifted in his chair, leaning forward to catch her attention. "So, what did you have in mind?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect some serious BEDTIME stuffs next chapter.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I added a couple new tags........and I feel like that about explains this chapter.

He'd hoped their conversation earlier would help, but Ken didn't seem much improved from this morning. Daisuke didn't know what to do to make him feel better, to get him out of his head and back to reality.

They were finally alone.

God, Daisuke had wanted to be _alone_ with him for the last week and a half, and now that they were, Ken wouldn't stop moping.

So he did the only thing he could think of to get Ken to relax.

He dragged his TV down to the floor and hooked in his PS2, then pulled out _Kuri Kuri Mix_. Ken adored these kinds of video games—they were one of the few kinds he felt comfortable playing—but this one was his favorite. Probably because of the emphasis on teamwork. And you know, cute bunnies.

Normally, they played with two controllers, but the game had the option for them to share one, and he hoped the closeness would help ease Ken's discomfort.

Plus, he really wanted to cuddle.

So Daisuke leaned against the side of his bed, legs spread wide, and tugged Ken's back flat against his chest. He barely managed to hook his chin over Ken's shoulder—mostly because Ken was hunching so low—and wrapped his arms around him so they could both reach the controller easily. And if his free hand happened to rest atop the smooth pajama pants covering Ken's thigh, well…that was just a nice bonus.

It wasn't an irregular position for them to sit in—Daisuke was endlessly affectionate, always had been—but this time, Ken struggled to relax. Thankfully, the more he got into the game, the more he let everything else go. He chose the cute pink bunny Cream, of course, while Daisuke got Chestnut, the brown one, and they started the story over again, ready to go on a journey to rescue the moon.

"How far do you think we can go tonight?" Daisuke nosed at the smooth skin at the crook of Ken's neck, exhaling slowly as sheer want pooled in his chest.

"H-how far?" Ken's voice—no, his entire body—trembled.

Daisuke frowned. "You cold?" He wrapped his arm around his middle and dragged him even closer, that cute ass pressing firmly against him. "Play for me?" he murmured in Ken's ear, releasing his half of the controller to reach behind them and drag his blanket from the bed.

Once they were all bundled up, they continued the game, and he hugged Ken tight, rubbing gentle circles across his abdomen with his otherwise unoccupied hand.

The game was fun, but Daisuke would've preferred something a little more engaging. Maybe then he wouldn't be thinking about sinking his teeth into the supple skin of Ken's neck or focusing on how incredibly close Ken's pert ass was to the part of himself that should not be reacting to this position but definitely was.

Ken was upset about something for fuck's sake.

That was hardly a good moment to go, _Oh, by the way, I've been in love with you my entire life and I only just figured it out like a week ago. Can I kiss you now?_

If there ever would be a good moment.

It had taken far more willpower than he'd like to admit not to kiss Ken when he'd had him pinned to the floor earlier. He'd wanted to bury his hand in those silky locks and smash their mouths together until there was nothing in the world but him and Ken forever and ever.

But he couldn't do that while Ken was upset. He didn't want to risk upsetting him more. Or worse, accidentally take advantage of him.

He had no idea what had happened to upset Ken so much. Obviously, Ken wasn't being the least bit forthcoming, but slowly, he melted into Daisuke's embrace, let Daisuke hold him and protect him, care for him as they maneuvered through the game's story.

There, with Ken wrapped safely in his arms, Daisuke knew there was nothing he wanted more than to hold his best friend like that, to cradle him in his arms every night, to thread their fingers together and rub his thumb over those delicate knuckles, to press gentle kisses all over his face, and well, okay, some not so gentle kisses too.

Daisuke wasn't sure whether it was a blessing or a curse to fall in love with your best friend—probably a little bit of both honestly—but he was positive he didn't want the opportunity to pass them by.

His arm curled tighter around Ken's ribs, and Ken dipped his head backward, leaning back on Daisuke's shoulder, his silky locks falling from his face, eyes fluttering shut, game forgotten.

Ken was gorgeous, and it wouldn't take much effort to twist just enough to plant a kiss on those luscious pink lips, to suck on the throbbing pulse point below his jaw. But he was smiling, and Daisuke didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that. Besides, just because Ken had finally relaxed didn't mean he wasn't still upset. Daisuke wanted to comfort him, not come on to him.

But there was one thing he was certain of as he nosed Ken's collarbone.

When the time came to tell Ken everything, to confess his feelings and let him in, to say those three words that had plagued him since his uncomfortably belated self-discovery, to say _I love you_ …

When the _right moment_ came, he wouldn't hesitate.

Daisuke was nothing if not a risk-taker, and as much as he didn't want to risk his relationship with his best friend, it was a necessary risk. A calculated risk.

He would cross that line—the one that kept them purely platonic—and let the debris fall where it may. Whatever happened, he would have to be able to handle it.

Even if that meant he lost his best friend.

That was a risk he'd have to take.

*

Ken had worn his pajamas all day—Daisuke knew because he hadn't been able to stop eyeing the tantalizing skin revealed by the top two buttons he'd kept undone.

But when it came time for bed, Daisuke wasn't sure what to expect.

For the first time in a week and a half, they were alone, and that meant Ken didn't have to sleep in the bed with him, didn't have to cuddle the whole night. If he wanted the space, the privacy, he could sleep on the futon instead.

Daisuke thought about that for a long time.

While taking his bath too.

The hot water opened up his pores and let him relax, gave him time to consider everything—to think about Ken—as he stretched out, swishing his legs back and forth in the water, making tiny waves.

Why had Ken been so upset anyway?

He'd been acting weird since this morning, since the moment Wallace and Takeru had sat down at the table on either side of him. Was it related to them?

Of course, Takeru had been particularly forward when he'd wiped that whipped cream from Ken's nose. Especially when he still didn't have the decency to call Ken by his given name.

Takeru's forwardness was annoying, but Ken's reaction was the part that made his chest ache painfully. He'd reacted quite strongly to what amounted to a simple wipe of a napkin, and he'd been even more embarrassed when he'd caught Daisuke watching.

Daisuke didn't like the jealousy that turned his stomach, but he couldn't help the momentary thought that, maybe, perhaps, Ken had a crush on Takeru.

But no.

That didn't make sense.

Ken's discomfort around Takeru stemmed from far deeper issues than some stupid crush. Part of Ken still thought Takeru hated him, resented him for the things he'd done as a child, and Ken didn't know how to handle the situation.

So what was it? What was bothering Ken so much?

And more importantly, why wouldn't Ken actually _talk_ to him?

When he'd started to open up earlier, it was just more rambling about not being good enough, about them spending too much time together, and he'd seemed better after Daisuke had made it clear how he felt.

But when the dust had settled, Ken had been shy and aloof again.

Daisuke scraped his fingers down his face with a groan.

Why did Ken have to make no sense? Why did he have to make everything so difficult? Why did he have to hide how he was feeling? And how the hell did he manage to be that soft and tender and _enticing_ while doing all that?

He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off that tiny patch of skin at Ken's collar. Hadn't been able to stop thinking about the way Ken had melted into him, relaxing and smiling, close enough Daisuke had wanted to kiss every bit of exposed skin.

God, he'd had a hard time not getting turned on by the position.

At one point, Ken had shifted from side to side, and Daisuke had nearly died at the way his ass had rubbed against him, leaving him with some rather cursed thoughts.

It wasn't difficult for them to return now, and Daisuke threw himself headfirst into those visions.

He took full advantage of his memories and lost himself in the images of Ken lapping whipped cream off his lips, massaging lotion into his sunburn, struggling to tear off his wet clothes, wiping down his body with Daisuke's towel, wrapping his lips around Daisuke's own spoon, moaning at the taste of the succulent chashu, falling asleep with his head right in Daisuke's lap, twirling his tongue around that goddamn popsicle…

When Daisuke was finally done in the bath, his body was flushed and boneless, and he was definitely ready to bury his face against Ken's neck and fall asleep.

He had to remind himself while rubbing his body down with a towel and pulling on a fresh pair of boxers that Ken probably wouldn't share his bed tonight. Because Ken hadn't wanted to sleep in his bed anyway.

He had to prepare for that, prepare for disappointment.

Yet, when he got back to the bedroom, lit only by the lamp atop his desk, Ken was lying on the mattress on his stomach, close to the wall so there was room enough for the both of them, flipping through a book, and relief flooded his body. He ran the towel through his hair, drying it as best he could, then dropped the fluffy towel on the back of his chair. He didn't care about any of that, he just wanted to be close to Ken.

Ken cocked an eyebrow as he slid under the covers, eyes trailing over his chest and abs, and a flush rose to his face. "Aren't you going to put on pajamas?" He returned to his book, but the pink on his cheeks remained firmly in place.

Daisuke grumbled and buried his face in the pillow. "Do I have to?" Wearing just his boxers was so much more comfortable, and Ken's blush made it even better.

A soft laugh slipped from Ken's pretty mouth. "No, I suppose you don't _have_ to." He flipped to the next page.

One glance and all Daisuke wanted to do was wrap himself around Ken until he was touching every part of him, relishing the feel of smooth skin, fingers buried in silky locks, face pressed to his neck, his collarbone, his heart.

He scooted closer, trapping Ken against the wall, and slung an arm over his lower back.

Ken laughed, nervousness seeping into the tone, but he didn't say anything as Daisuke curled around him, entangling their legs, resting his head against Ken's shoulder. A tiny gasp slipped out when Daisuke's hot hand slid under the hem of his pajama top, laying his palm flat on his lower back.

"This is nice," Daisuke mumbled, already drowsy. "Glad we didn't go out with the group today."

"Me too," Ken murmured.

He hummed. "Mmm, glad you're still here."

A soft chuckle. "Me too."

"I want you to stay."

Ken hesitated. "I _am_ staying, Daisuke. I'm right here."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, already starting to drift. "But I want you to stay forever. I don't want to sleep without you."

Daisuke started when Ken laughed, and when he pulled back, his best friend, flushed a deep red, was smiling. "I'll have to go home at some point. Before Friday, of course."

A frown tugged at his lips. "Why before Friday? What's so special about Friday?"

Ken laughed again, the sound a smooth melody that both comforted and unsettled him. "Daisuke, did you forget your own birthday?" Amusement pulling his mouth into a gentle smile, he slid his bookmark inside the book, then stretched to set it on the desk not far away and flipped off the lamp. "I didn't bring your present with me, so at the very least, I have to go home to get it before Friday."

He frowned. "You have a present for me?"

"Of course I do."

When he lay down, properly relaxing, Daisuke didn't hold back. He threw himself at his best friend, wrapping around him and dragging him as close as possible, hands slipping under his pajama top to curl around his ribs. Ken laughed, his chest vibrating with the sound, and Daisuke dropped his head over Ken's heart and let himself focus on the steady beat.

_Thump, thump_

_Thump, thump_

_Thump, thump_ …

There was so much skin.

He wanted to touch all of it, and since it was all right there, he did.

Daisuke ran his hands over the planes of Ken's stomach, curved along the sides, traced the line of his spine, and tugged open more buttons with his teeth so he could press wet kisses to the place where Ken's kind heart beat wildly in his chest.

Long legs wrapped around his waist, yanking him closer. He nuzzled Ken's chest, nosed at his nipple, and when slender fingers clawed through his hair, he latched on, sucking it between his lips and scraping his teeth around the sensitive bud.

Ken moaned.

Moaned like this felt as good as the fucking tamagoyaki had tasted at the beach the other day.

And it no longer mattered that Daisuke had taken care of himself before draining the tub because he was instantly hard, and he wanted Ken naked and moaning and gasping for air.

Instead, Daisuke was the one gasping.

When he opened his eyes, the room was dark, and he was panting and sweating. He peeled his hot hands off Ken's skin and scrambled for the edge of the bed, careful not to wake him.

His phone said it was two in the morning.

Apparently, Ken was haunting his dreams now.

And now he needed to go take care of himself again…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Oki for recommending the video game 😘


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this took. I can't believe it's been over a month since I updated. I've been in a bit of a writing slump lately, and I'm just trying to work my way through it.
> 
> This chapter....is 100% Daisuke panicking and 100% sexual tension.

For the first time in over a week—aside from the one night he and Wormmon had spent at home—Ken woke up cold and alone.

He twisted away from the wall, sleep and confusion muddling his brain, but froze when he saw Daisuke still in bed. This morning, he was facing away, curled in on himself, like he was hiding or protecting himself. Like he didn't want to be close. Like he didn't want to cuddle.

Somehow, that was even stranger than seeing him not in bed at all, even though the sun was barely rising.

Actually, this was the earliest Ken had woken up since they'd started sharing the bed.

Unease settled in his stomach, his chest and throat aching with emotion. He needed to get up. Staying here was uncomfortably painful.

He pushed the sheets away, uncovering himself, and sat up, eyes narrowed as they assessed the situation and he formulated a plan.

Somehow, he needed to escape without waking Daisuke.

Normally, he wouldn't worry about that too much. Daisuke was a heavy sleeper, after all, and was rarely disturbed by Ken crawling over him and out of bed.

But this morning, he really didn't want to chance Daisuke waking up while he was leaving.

Unfortunately, he wasn't left with many options. The setup of the bedroom—the bed pressed into a corner, the one available end blocked by the desk, the one available side blocked by Daisuke himself—was not helpful to say the least, and Ken really couldn't find a better exit than climbing over his best friend.

The moment he was halfway over, one foot resting on the frame, Daisuke could sense him, knew he was there, could feel his presence. But instead of waking up like any sensible person, he snaked his arms around Ken's torso and dragged him close.

Ken barely caught himself on the headboard, barely kept the both of them from falling off the bed entirely.

Daisuke grunted and grumbled and twisted until Ken was all tangled up with him and the sheets, entwined together, his tight hold inescapable. Again, he buried his face in the crook of Ken's neck like he usually did, sighing in contentment, and his breath ghosted over the tender skin, sending shivers down Ken's spine.

A large part of Ken didn't want to escape. Being close to Daisuke, enveloped in his warmth, was exactly what he wanted.

But the unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

If Daisuke _did_ want this, why hadn't he been this close overnight? Why hadn't he cuddled and held him, completely unabashed, like they had every night since they'd had to spend the night apart? Why had he pulled away during the night?

He licked his lips, trying to decide the best move.

He wanted to get up, get out of bed, get out of Daisuke's arms, especially when one of those hot hands made it three-quarters of the way up his shirt—but he was also struck with the burning need to stay wrapped up in his embrace, to push his own shirt out of the way and feel Daisuke skin to skin.

Ken inhaled sharply, and his eyes darted around the room, remembering.

They were alone.

For the first time in so long, Wallace wasn't here, and he had Daisuke to himself. Wallace wouldn't jump in to tease them or imply things that simply weren't true, and he couldn't press close and flirt, couldn't make them uncomfortable.

With a slow sigh, Ken settled into Daisuke's warm arms, allowing himself to enjoy this closeness, limited though it was, and after a moment of gentle snoring vibrating in his ear, he slid a tentative hand to rest over Daisuke's heart, palm pressing against the hot bare chest. The steady beat reverberated through his palm, and he let that rhythm lull him back into relaxation.

Ken didn't know how long he lay there, enjoying Daisuke's embrace, half asleep and warm and more happy than he had any business being.

Eventually, Daisuke stirred.

He buried his face in Ken's neck, his arms tightened around his thin frame, and he released a low, soft groan. Slowly, his breathing changed from the slow deep inhalations to something more unsteady, faster. And just when Ken wanted to pull away to get a proper look at him, Daisuke sighed, tickling the sensitive skin, and rumbled, "Mmmmm, love waking up like this."

Heat rose to Ken's cheeks, and the strange discomfort in Ken's chest tightened. "Then why were you on the edge of the bed earlier?" he whispered, just loud enough for Daisuke to hear.

That did make Daisuke pull back, and for a moment, warm chocolate eyes, barely open and crusted with sleep, stared at him, unblinking.

Ken bit his lip and tried to keep the hurt from his tone. "You were as far from me as you could be."

Daisuke stared a moment longer.

Then, understanding flashed in his eyes, and a deep red blush spread across his face. His grip immediately loosened on him, and he dragged himself far enough away he fell out of the bed into a heap on the floor, spluttering, dragging the sheets down with him.

Frowning, Ken pushed up into a sitting position, watching the mess on the floor. "What's wrong?"

Finally, Daisuke managed to untangle himself. If possible, the face that emerged was more red than before. "N-nothing, nothing!" He chewed on his lip violently, avoiding eye contact. "Nothing's wrong. I just…have to go to the bathroom."

Before Ken could protest, Daisuke had jolted to his feet and darted out of the bedroom, faster than he'd ever moved before, on or off the soccer pitch. He waited a minute or two, but when Daisuke didn't return, Ken slipped from the mattress and padded into the main living space.

The Motomiya apartment was quieter than it had ever been. Daisuke was still in the bathroom, and all the lights were off. With the overcast sky, the light rain, the place was oddly dark.

No one else was here.

A cursory examination revealed a note on the fridge and some spare money on the counter, but all the note said was, _We'll be out for the day. Behave!_ Then there was a small line at the bottom saying to use the money if they needed any more groceries.

Ken bit his lip.

So that meant it would be just them and Wallace once he got back. That was often awkward but not unusual. Daisuke's parents were often busy even if they _were_ there, but this would really be just like every other day since Wallace's arrival.

Ken was pouring himself a glass of water when Daisuke finally emerged from the bathroom, still pink in the face and avoiding eye contact.

"I, uh…" His eyes found Ken's face, but he looked down at the phone in his hand before saying, "Got an email from Wallace."

He raised an eyebrow.

Daisuke met his eyes, but his chocolate orbs quickly darted away. "He's going to do the memorial shit with Takeru and everyone today. They're gonna go to the TV station, you know? He won't be back for hours, probably not till late…" As his voice faded, pink rose to his cheeks.

Ken's stomach twisted and nausea swelled as the words registered.

It took him a moment to realize _why_.

Without Wallace, they had no buffer. And with the knowledge that Daisuke's parents would be gone all day…

He and Daisuke were going to be alone. For the whole day.

 _Anything_ could happen.

His entire body clenched, struggling between anticipation and anxiety, between wanting something to happen and wanting nothing to happen, between wanting to throw himself into Daisuke's arms and at his mercy and wanting to bury himself in his book or a movie or even a video game and never actually look Daisuke in the eyes today. He wanted too much and too little at the same time, and as much as Daisuke wore his heart on his sleeve, he had no idea whether Daisuke would act on the overwhelming sexual tension or decide crossing that line would be too detrimental to their friendship.

Ken wanted to cross that line. Desperately.

And he wanted to never cross it, to pretend that line didn't exist, to feel comforted by the fact that Daisuke was his best friend, would _always_ be his best friend.

But there was little comfort in that fact.

Daisuke was still avoiding his gaze—strange and unbearable coming from him—but that meant Ken's eyes could wander over his half-naked form without restraint. He was still wearing nothing more than his boxers, and he spent far too long staring at the stupid pattern—Daisuke's boxers had various sushi rolls on them.

Heat blossomed under Ken's skin as he eyed the bit of hair peeking just above the elastic waistband.

He wanted to tear those stupid boxers off of him. With his teeth. He wanted to run his hands over the expanse of naked skin underneath, to pause right at his bare hips where he knew Daisuke was particularly ticklish, to smash their bodies together until they were skin to skin, mouth to mouth, completely inseparable.

He wanted Daisuke to lean in and whisper, "How far do you think we can go tonight?" And he wanted Daisuke to _mean_ that, to not be talking about some silly video game. He wanted Daisuke to touch him, to trace his body with his tongue, to bury himself deep inside.

He loved Daisuke, had loved him for years, but the yearning…the yearning and the fear was overwhelming.

They would be completely alone all day, free to do literally anything they wanted, and what he wanted more than anything was for Daisuke to love him, to make love to him. Hell, he'd settle for Daisuke fucking him even if the thought made his heart hurt.

Like that would happen.

"So, um," Daisuke said, voice quivering, strangely high-pitched, "what do you wanna do today?"

*

It rained all day.

Which meant they couldn't go anywhere to distract from this strange tension. Worse tension than normal. Perhaps because Daisuke was usually the one relaxed and unintentionally toeing the line.

Today, Daisuke was anything but relaxed.

And Ken was the one toeing the line, though that was anything but unintentional.

It hadn't taken much effort to get Daisuke to set up his PS2 in the living room and start a game. He sat cross-legged on the floor, still in his boxers since Ken had kept him moving and distracted, and Ken stretched out beside him, tucking his book close to his face and laying his head in Daisuke's lap, enjoying the heat radiating off his bare legs and abdomen.

The close contact usually made Daisuke relax, but today, he stiffened, barely able to focus on the game.

Not that Ken could focus on reading either.

Lightning flashed outside, and a crash of thunder reverberated through the apartment, and Ken sighed and closed his book. Instead, he twisted in Daisuke's lap so he was staring right at his belly button and stomach—his abs were taut the same way the rest of his body was, tight and tense and lovely.

Ken sighed and enjoyed the goosebumps that rose over the exposed skin. He wanted to run his tongue over every centimeter.

Instead, he lifted a hand and trailed his fingertips over Daisuke's beautiful golden skin, pausing long enough to thumb a nipple before moving up to trace his collarbone and then lay his palm over Daisuke's pounding heart as his best friend inhaled sharply.

"Daisuke…" he murmured.

But Daisuke wouldn't look at him.

"You've been playing that game for hours. Aren't you going to pay attention to me?" The words were coy, teasing, testing the waters.

Daisuke bit his lip, his shoulders trembling as he shrugged, but he didn't take his eyes off the TV.

Ken took a deep breath and extended his hand again, walking his fingers up to Daisuke's mouth and clicking his tongue. "What are you so tense about, hmm?" he asked as he tugged the lip out from under his teeth. "I thought I was the one with anxiety."

Like Daisuke had done the day before, he ran his thumb over that damp lip, dipped inside his wet mouth, and dragged a trail of saliva down, down, down till he reached his heart again.

Daisuke stifled a quiet moan, and Ken could feel the stiff product of his teasing pressing against his cheek, tenting those stupid sushi boxers.

Ken inhaled slowly.

It would take so little effort to undo that button and set him free, and dear god, he wanted to.

But the moment he shifted his head to get a good look, Daisuke threw the controller down and jumped to his feet, not even looking back when Ken toppled onto the floor, whacking his skull against the hardwood. "I'm starving," he practically shouted as he scrambled for the kitchen. "I'm gonna make food."

In his wake, Ken rubbed at the place where his head had hit the floor and sighed.

This was utterly useless.

And what the hell did it prove anyway?

Daisuke was obviously attracted to him. His unbelievably hard erection just now made that impossible to ignore. But he also obviously didn't want to do anything about it.

No matter how attracted Daisuke was to him, he would never be the one to cross that line. Daisuke cared about their friendship too much to fuck it up by diving into a friends-with-benefits situation or some strange sort of one-night stand. Like he'd said the day before, Daisuke had no interest in making the relationship more than best friends.

No, if Ken wanted Daisuke in bed, he'd have to drag him there himself.

And then figure out how to keep their friendship from falling apart in the aftermath.

Ken closed his eyes with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Was that a risk he was willing to take?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is just going to be more food porn. I am nothing if not predictable. lol


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daisuke in crisis. Horny crisis.

The rice was done, the ingredients ready, and the dishes of water and salt waiting on the counter, but Ken was leaning on the opposite side, watching his every move. How the hell was he supposed to do anything with Ken's pretty eyes studying him?

Over the last twenty minutes, Daisuke had already nearly dropped the rice while rinsing it, lost two umeboshi to the floor (and stepped on one), and scattered salt everywhere.

All Ken had done was smile at him, his elbows resting atop the counter, and Daisuke's arm had flailed out, salt flying, sticking to his bare chest. And when Ken shifted, starting to push away, concern written all over his serene face, Daisuke had spluttered and insisted he didn't need the help.

He couldn't let Ken get too close right now.

Not after that damn dream.

Of course, that didn't explain Ken's behavior out in the living room. But Daisuke wasn't sure anything could explain that. It was so incredibly… _not_ Ken.

When he braved a look in Ken's direction, his best friend had his lip between his teeth, and when his beautiful blue-violet eyes met Daisuke's, he quirked a smile. He wetted his lips—Daisuke couldn't stop staring at his perfectly pink mouth—and said in his dulcet voice, "What kind is your favorite?"

Daisuke swallowed. "Ken."

He lifted a sleek eyebrow and said, a teasing lilt to his words, "Do you want to taste me, Daisuke?"

"What?"

Amusement tugged at Ken's lips.

Daisuke couldn't breathe.

His mouth was dry.

His heart was practically beating out of his chest.

And he couldn't stop thinking about all the parts of Ken hidden behind the counter and beneath his stupidly oversize pajamas.

"I don't think you could fit me inside an onigiri. I think you'd have to settle for nantaimori," Ken said with a laugh, like it was a ridiculous joke. Then, he stretched over the counter to snatch a piece of the shredded salmon fillet, and the collar of his loose-hanging top provided a painfully welcome view of his chest underneath. "I'm partial to the salmon myself."

All too quickly, Ken was back in his original position, leaning against the counter edge, moving the salmon around with his tongue more than actually chewing it. The view right down his shirt was gone, but that meant his words could finally register.

Daisuke had to hold on to the counter to keep from falling over.

The very notion of eating food straight off Ken's naked body was anything but _settling_. Daisuke's insides were a twisted mass of feelings and aching desire at the thought of having a bite right off Ken's slender form, of lapping sauce from his bare skin, of tasting food and Ken at the same time. It set his entire body on fire.

Frankly, he wanted to clear the counter with a sweep of his arm and stretch Ken across the laminate and…

Fuck, he didn't even know where to start.

When it came to Ken, he was possessive and greedy and always had been.

Ken had been his first true friend, his first best friend. Even before they Jogressed, Ken had filled the deep cavity in his chest, and now, his heart had never felt so full.

Ken had done that.

Ken had made him whole when he hadn't even realized he wasn't. He'd been entirely clueless, completely unaware of what he was lacking, but Ken had filled him up, had made him better, had trusted him and believed in him. Ken had become the keeper of his heart long before he knew what that meant. That's exactly why he was so precious and important, why Daisuke had fallen in love with him and chose to keep loving him.

And if Daisuke ever got the chance to have Ken splayed out in front of him, naked and sexy and beyond beautiful, he wanted to make sure Ken felt as loved as he already made Daisuke feel.

If that happened to involve licking sauce or syrup or, fuck, _anything_ off Ken's bare skin, he'd be more than okay with that. But Ken was the necessary part of the equation. He was was who he wanted, who he needed, who he loved. Always.

Anything else was just an added bonus.

Of course, that didn't stop him from wanting to tear off Ken's ridiculously adorable pajamas, smear whipped cream all over him, and swallow his every moan as he came. It didn't stop him from wanting Ken sticky and messy and broken. Body shaking, racked with sobs of pleasure. Utterly debauched.

Fuck, this was a problem.

Ken was a problem.

No.

Spending all this time around Ken was the problem.

He was getting too used to being close, to touching him and holding him. Too used to spending every waking minute with him. Too used to sharing a bed. And now Ken had become a permanent resident inside his head, inside his dreams.

Oh god, that dream.

Daisuke couldn't get it out of his head. Couldn't get the sound of Ken moaning out of his head. Couldn't get the image of Ken's deliciously long legs wrapping around him and pulling him so close they were inseparable.

How could he focus on anything when one look at Ken sent him reeling?

"Daisuke?"

He jumped, gripping the counter till his knuckles were white, and met Ken's curious gaze. "Huh?"

"Are you sure you're all right?"

He was about to answer, but then Ken sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and all ability to think was lost. And Ken slipping around the peninsula and into the kitchen area to check on him, lovely blue-violet eyes shimmering with concern, did not help.

Daisuke backed up against the fridge, completely blocked in as Ken cornered him. He opened his mouth, trying to protest, trying to tell Ken to go back, to stay out of the kitchen, but he had no words.

Ken didn't stop until he was almost upon him, till he was close enough to lean down and trace the edge of Daisuke's face. "You're very jumpy today…"

Daisuke wanted to rebut. To tell Ken he was very touchy today. To say he was acting confusing and weird and completely foreign.

Instead, he leaned into Ken's touch and let his eyes fall shut.

He wanted to enjoy the feel of Ken's fingers on his skin for the rest of his life, to touch him in return, to spread his hands over Ken's naked skin, to…

Fuck.

The fucking dream was fucking with his head.

Something hot and wet swept over his collarbone, and Daisuke let out a gurgling moan at the realization it was his tongue. "K-ken…" he panted, trying to keep himself from dissolving into a puddle right there in the kitchen, even after that tongue pulled away.

Cool fingers slid along his bare chest and stomach.

"Ken, wha…what?"

He hummed, and when he spoke, his smooth, practiced voice was unnecessarily close to Daisuke's ear. "You really got salt all over you."

Daisuke's eyes fluttered open, but Ken was already stepping back, his touch falling away. He quirked a smile and said, "I don't know how long this will take, so I'm going to change. Let me know when it's ready?"

He could only nod.

Ken sent him one last glance-over before spinning on his heel and sweeping toward Daisuke's bedroom.

He left the door open.

Daisuke watched.

Waited.

But Ken left the door open.

He said he was going to change. Like strip off his clothes. Bare skin. Possibly naked. And he left the fucking bedroom door open.

Daisuke shoved his head in the freezer.

His face was on fire, his head was a mess, his heart wouldn't stop beating so damn fast. It was beating so fast it hurt. But in a good way.

When he'd cooled down enough, he slid the freezer shut and forced himself to focus on the onigiri. They were quick work when he could focus, when he wasn't utterly distracted by Ken's appraising eyes, and before long, he had a platter of salmon, umeboshi, and tuna mayo onigiri ready for consumption.

But still no Ken.

He carried the tray out to the living room, set it on the small table, careful not to glance through his open bedroom door, and settled himself on the couch before calling out, "Hey, Ken?"

"Yeah?" came the distant response.

"Food's ready." He cleared his throat. "What's taking so long?"

A soft sigh signaled Ken was in his doorway, and Daisuke glanced up—and quickly choked on his own saliva.

Ken was wearing a pair of tight, navy blue Bermuda shorts, showing on his gorgeous legs, along with a shirt that definitely didn't belong to him. Not only did Daisuke recognize the striped tank top as one of his own, but simultaneously hung loosely on Ken's narrow frame and bared his pale midriff.

With a sheepish smile, Ken gave a shrug. "I had to borrow a shirt. Think we can wash laundry later? I'll help."

Daisuke nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off all the skin Ken was showing off.

Arms, legs, neck, chest, and dear god, that strip of abdomen that deserved worship all on its own.

To be fair, he'd happily worship every part of Ken.

From his gorgeous body to his silky hair and his mesmerizing eyes, he was sex incarnate. And that didn't account for who Ken really was, of what made Ken so special. That didn't even graze the surface of how amazing he was, how soft and kind and gentle, how determined and brave, how smart, how patient, how utterly beautiful he was inside and out.

Pink dusting his cheeks, Ken joined him on the couch, sitting closer than strictly necessary but tucking his head down to try to hide the blush. "Food's ready?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Yeah…"

Ken wetted his lips, and his eyes studied the platter of onigiri. "Which one should I try?"

Daisuke took a deep breath and forced himself to look away from the hint of naked skin at Ken's waist. "Uh, the salmon's your favorite, right?" He picked up one of the closer rice balls and held it out for Ken to take. "That's why I made so many of them."

His little proud smile disappeared when Ken dipped forward and took a bite instead of grabbing the onigiri. Daisuke swallowed, his eyes studying the way Ken's mouth contorted as he chewed delicately.

They'd shared food plenty. Frankly, he _loved_ feeding Ken. He loved seeing how much Ken enjoyed the food, hearing the product of his enjoyment.

But when Ken swallowed and took another bite with a little moan of pleasure, Daisuke almost died.

There was something far more desirable about the idea of Ken enjoying _his_ food. Especially something he made specifically for Ken, something he made because he knew how much Ken liked it.

Daisuke scooted closer and held the onigiri to Ken's lips, and this time, those beautiful blue-violet eyes held his while Ken opened his mouth and took another bite.

Onigiri was just sushi rice and salt and nori and, in this case, fish, but Ken could eat anything and it would be enthralling and hypnotizing and erotic.

When Ken took the final bite, Daisuke's hand hovered there. He was watching Ken so much he didn't even realize it was still there till Ken swallowed the end of the onigiri and leaned forward to suck those fingers into his mouth. His eyes fell shut as he ran his tongue and teeth over the finger pads and sucked, tasting the remnants of salt and nori on his skin, and a slow moan rumbled in his throat.

Daisuke's body trembled, and he felt hot everywhere again. God, he'd been hard from the moment Ken had swallowed his bite.

Now, he was aching.

And he couldn't stop his brain from picturing Ken dipping down and sucking a different part into—

Ken released him and offered him a soft smile, his eyes half-lidded. "Can I have another?"

Fuck.

Ken could have anything he wanted.

"It's…" He cleared his throat, trying to keep it from cracking. "It tastes okay?"

With a serene smile, Ken leaned closer, pressing against him shoulder to shoulder. "Everything you make is delicious, Daisuke." He laid a hand on his bare knee, squeezing, and said, "Feed me?"

Daisuke grabbed a second onigiri and scooted even closer, Ken's hand still on his knee.

He'd been hungry earlier, wanted to scarf down the food as quickly as possible, but he had no appetite now. He had no interest in eating when he could feed Ken instead.

Ken took smaller portions with the second one, but he kept his eyes trained on Daisuke's, held his gaze through every bite.

Daisuke couldn't have taken his eyes off Ken if he'd wanted to.

He definitely didn't want to.

Chewing his bottom lip, Daisuke leaned closer, body stiff with purpose. He knew, no matter what, he'd take care of Ken every day for the rest of forever, and if he got to do this even once more, he'd consider his life fulfilled. And he wanted—no, he _needed_ Ken to know that, needed Ken to see how important he was.

"Ken?" he whispered.

His best friend paused before taking another bite and simply licked his lips, squeezing his knee again to signal he continue.

"You're…you are so—"

A door opened in the distance.

Ken pulled back immediately, and Daisuke dropped his hand, holding the half-eaten onigiri over his lap.

Footsteps padded down the hallway, and a blond head of hair peeked around the edge of the kitchen.

Wallace.

"Hey, guys." He glanced between the two of them—both their faces were bright red—and grinned. "Did I interrupt anything?" His blue eyes sparkled with something that reminded Daisuke remarkably of hope, and discomfort welled in his stomach.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, the farther we get in this, the longer between updates :/  
> I don't like it

Ken's shadow followed him, slinking along the street as he padded toward the brightly glowing storefront as the base of the condo.

Wallace had only been back for about fifteen minutes before Ken had needed to get away.

He couldn't fucking believe he'd spent all day throwing himself at Daisuke, and all he'd gotten in return was Daisuke blushing and staring, obviously into it but doing _absolutely nothing_. Ken had made a complete idiot of himself.

The door chimed as he pushed inside the Ai-Mart.

Miyako's father was behind the counter at the opposite end of the store, but Ken looked around the store, hoping to find his friend. The friend he had completely snapped at the last time he'd been here.

Instead, he found Hikari, leaning against the office wall.

She looked up from her phone in surprise. "Ken-kun," she greeted, a smile spreading across her lips. "I didn't expect to see you here."

He nodded solemnly. "Ah, I was hoping to find Miyako-san here."

Hikari grinned. "She'll be out from the back in a few minutes. We were going to go for a walk on her break. Would you like to come with us?"

Ken opened his mouth, but then he remembered his conversation with Takeru on the beach.

Would he be imposing if he joined them on a walk? Takeru, for one, was sure there was something going on between them, something developing. Wouldn't he get in the way? Would they even want him there?

And then Miyako was beside them, grinning broadly, her big glasses shimmering under the fluorescent lights. "Ken-kun," she said, excitement lacing her words, "are you coming with us?"

He glanced between the two of them. "If I wouldn't be in the way," he mumbled.

When they were on the street, the girls side by side, Ken followed behind them at a slower pace, giving them the space they obviously desired. They leaned into each other as they moved, and Ken could only watch, an awful ache in his chest.

Then, Hikari paused and twisted back to look at him. "Get up here, Ken-kun," she said, a soft smile on her lips as she waved him closer.

Hesitantly, he slid up between them, and Miyako threw an arm around his high shoulders, only a few centimeters above her own. "Walk with us," she said.

For a while, they moved in silence—strange, perhaps eerie for Miyako to remain quiet for so long, but not wholly uncomfortable—until Hikari, voice quiet, asked, "Was there something you wanted to talk to Miyako-san about?" She flashed him a small smile. "Or did you just want to spend time together?"

Ken readjusted his cardigan, pulling it tighter despite the warm evening air. "No," he murmured, "I just wanted…"

Miyako finally released him—not that she'd been hanging on too tight or irritating him, but he could hardly tolerate Daisuke's invasive touches, let alone someone else's—and paused, letting him and Hikari move ahead as they passed someone heading the opposite way.

Well, that wasn't strictly true.

He tolerated Daisuke's touches far too well. That was, after all, the problem.

Hikari kept her eye on him as they moved, but she left him be, let him take his time and think things through, and when at last his cheeks colored and he fixed his gaze on her, she smiled. "Wallace came back today, didn't he?" she asked.

Ken frowned. "Yes, he did."

She flashed him a small smile. "Did you at least enjoy your alone time with Daisuke-kun? It must have been nice—just the two of you again."

Despite himself, he flushed a deep red and had to look away.

It _had_ been nice. For the first time, he'd felt like he could actually show Daisuke what he wanted, and Daisuke's reactions to his advances sent a powerful throb of anticipation throughout his body. It had felt like he was making progress.

Until Wallace had walked through the door and ruined everything.

Ken tried not to consider what Wallace could have walked in on if Daisuke were more receptive to his charms, if Ken had been more direct in his desires. What would have happened if Wallace had discovered them in a compromising position? If Wallace had found them in the position Ken had wanted his advances to lead to?

His blush deepened as flashes of him and Daisuke danced, unbidden, around his head.

Yes, if he'd gotten his way, Daisuke would've been coming inside him while feeding him the moment Wallace got back. Daisuke would've torn off his shorts and underwear till he was in nothing but Daisuke's too small shirt, yanked him down on his lap, and fucked him right there in the living room while hand-feeding him onigiri.

Or he would've dropped everything in the kitchen and followed Ken to the bedroom like he was supposed to. He would've watched Ken strip down to his underwear and pressed him to the bed to tear those off himself.

Or he would've pinned him to the wall or the fridge or something and spread him open and taken him there in the kitchen.

Or he would've tossed aside his controller and begged Ken to go down on him there on the living room floor. He would've dragged down Ken's pajamas and opened him up at an achingly slow pace.

Or he would've…

Or.

Or.

Or.

Ken sighed. He tried to flush the images from his brain, tried to pretend Hikari hadn't noticed the emotions he knew he couldn't hide.

Especially from her.

Hikari could always read him better than anyone, often even better than Daisuke. She understood him on a fundamental level. She could see him in ways no one else could. She could reach the places he was too scared to show anyone.

Which was perhaps the reason Miyako had stepped back. She had been the first person, after all, to recognize their connection.

"Are you…?" he asked instead of answering her question, keeping his voice low enough he was sure Hikari would be the only one to hear. He couldn't look at her, but he had to know. "Is there something going on between you and Miyako-san?"

She sent him a small smile. That was confirmation enough, but she said, "We have been spending more time together lately, but we're no closer than you and Daisuke-kun."

Ken gave a short nod. "Takeru-san has noticed," he mumbled.

"Yes." But she barely paused before moving on. "You know, I used to think the idea of love—true, pure love—was childish at best. My relationship with Takeru-kun was based on the fact that everyone expected us to be together. I convinced myself I had feelings for him because I was supposed to." She glanced at Miyako, and a bright grin spread across her lips. "It took me a long time to see what was already in front of me."

He released an anxious puff of laughter. "You're lucky."

"Because I haven't been _waiting_ for nearly six years?"

Sometimes, he hated how well she could see right through him.

Ken sighed. "How could it be possible to meet your soulmate when you're ten years old? Isn't that a bit unrealistic?"

"If everyone did, sure, but only some people? People brought together by destiny and Jogress?" Hikari sent him a fond smile. "What could be wrong with that?"

A frown tugged at his lips. "A formless otherworldly being _choosing_ us to fight as child soldiers is not destiny."

"What about Jogress then?"

Ken clutched at his heart. Even through the thick material of his gray cardigan and Daisuke's too-small shirt underneath, the steady thrum beat against his palm.

Through it all, Jogress—no, their _very hearts_ were the constant link between himself and Daisuke, the thread that held them together before they were even friends, the event that made them the close partners they were now instead of mere friends. In a sense, Jogress meant everything.

"I don't know," he murmured.

Hikari's eyes darted back toward Miyako. "I do."

In all the times Stingmon and XV-mon had Jogress-evolved, in all the times in and out of Jogress that Ken had felt his connection with Daisuke over the years, he'd felt affection and companionship and even attraction, yes. But not necessarily love.

Miyako skipped closer to meet them, taking advantage of the break in their conversation to say, "I snagged some melonpan before we left." She offered them each a sweet bun before falling back again.

But Ken clutched her wrist before she could fall too far behind, and the pair stopped, Hikari pausing too only a couple steps ahead. "Thank you."

She blinked at him, confusion flitting across her face at the weight of his words. "Of course."

"I owe you an apology, Miyako-san." He forced himself to focus on her, to look her in the eyes. "I shouldn't have been short with you."

Her face softened, her mouth slanting into a smile. "Thank you, Ken-kun."

*

Daisuke frowned at the onigiri in his hand, uncertainty pooling in his stomach.

Not too long ago, Ken was sitting here beside him, showing off more skin than Ken ever would and practically begging Daisuke to feed him.

Now, Wallace was on the couch next to him, stuffing his face with the onigiri and loosely watching the news.

Daisuke had lost his appetite the moment Ken had bolted out of the apartment, so quickly he'd grabbed a cardigan instead of changing his clothes. It wasn't a feeling he was familiar with, but he couldn't shake it.

"You all right?"

He dropped the rice ball back on the plate and wiped his hands on his shorts—he'd felt uncomfortably naked in just his boxers, especially when Wallace had shot them that suggestive look after how close they'd been when he'd arrived. "I'm going to start a load of laundry," he said with a sigh as he rose from the couch.

Wallace had kept his laundry all his own—more organized than Daisuke would've expected from him, but Wallace had been pretty self-sufficient even when they met at age eleven—but somehow, Ken's dirty clothing had gotten mixed in with his. When had that happened?

Daisuke filled his hamper and dragged it to the bathroom, then started loading their blended dirty laundry to the washer.

"So what all did you two do during all your free time together?"

He looked up to find Wallace leaning against the door frame. "Huh?"

Wallace cocked a golden eyebrow. "You and Ken—did you two have fun? Do anything interesting?"

"Oh." Daisuke turned back to the washing machine to hide the flush that rose to his cheeks. "We were just hanging out, you know? We didn't really do anything."

"Daisuke," Wallace said, his voice flat and unimpressed. "You're blushing."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes—"

He shoved the rest of the laundry inside and slammed the door shut. "We didn't do anything special," he said firmly, adding in the detergent. "We played a few games. Ken read. We ate food."

"Oh?" Wallace didn't sound convinced. "Is that why you've been irritated since I got back?" He was smirking when Daisuke glanced at him.

"I have not."

But his voice sounded more irritated than ever.

Wallace didn't move from the doorway when he was ready to go. Instead, he crossed his arms. "Did Ken sleep on the futon since it was free?" His smirk widened. "Or did you still share?"

Heat rose to his cheeks. That was all the response Wallace needed.

"But the two of you didn't take advantage of having the room to yourselves?" He released a dramatic sigh and finally pushed away from the frame and retreated into the living room, calling after him. "What a shame."

Daisuke scoffed, his irritation rising again, and he stalked after him. "What the hell were we supposed to do?" he snapped.

Wallace caught hold of the edge of the peninsula to turn back to him with a grin. "Oh, don't hide it, Daisuke. We both know exactly what you two were supposed to do while alone in the same bed."

Lips pursed, Daisuke elbowed him as he passed.

"Hey!"

"You're being an ass." He dropped onto he couch again, arms crossed, and glared at the two remaining onigiri.

But Wallace dropped onto the sectional couch and stretched out across cushions to rest his feet right on Daisuke's lap. "And you won't stop playing coy." He reached out a sock-covered foot to poke him hard in the chest before it dropped back to lap. "I can't believe you had him in your arms and you couldn't even—" his foot pressed directly to Daisuke's groin "— _take_ what's right in front of you."

Daisuke's face went beet red, and he shoved the offending feet from his lap. "Stop it!"

Wallace cackled, the ridiculous noise echoing off the walls, not caring as he slipped to the floor.

When his laughter finally faded and he managed to open his bleary eyes, he grinned again, but he wasn't looking at Daisuke this time. "Oh, hey, Ken." He chuckled, unable to hide his amusement. "Been a while."

Daisuke turned toward the hallway, where Ken was standing in his slippers, his face blank. He didn't even respond to Wallace's words before announcing, "I'm going to bathe and get ready for bed."

"Oh!" Daisuke jumped up from the couch. "I'll help."

Wallace snickered behind him as he rushed toward Ken's side, and Ken's cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

It took Daisuke a moment to catch why. He hadn't considered the implication. Hell, he hadn't even registered Ken's words before jumping to his feet.

All he knew was how much he wanted to be close to Ken, how much he wanted to help him any way he could.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, this one didn't take forever. That's weird. (I also didn't work on literally any other fic between chapters, though.)

Under the cardigan, Ken was still wearing his shirt.

Daisuke tried not to pay too much attention to that while he filled the tub with fresh hot water. He knew exactly what temperature Ken liked.

It was particularly difficult not to get distracted when Ken stretched and the cotton material lifted high above his navel, showing off unreasonable amounts of smooth creamy skin. Skin Daisuke wanted to run his fingers over, to touch and kiss and consume.

Then Ken pulled the shirt up over his head.

And then he tugged at the button of his tight shorts.

Daisuke nearly slipped on a wet patch of tiles, catching himself on the side of the tub, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip.

A hand pressed to his shoulder. "Daisuke, be careful."

The shorts at Ken's waist, right at eye level, were open, the button undone and zipper all the down, and a hint of black underwear peeked through the opening. The contrast against Ken's perfect skin made it impossible not to notice. And stare.

His fingers itched to slide that thick material down Ken's legs, much like when he'd helped peel off his wet clothes only a few nights ago, slowly unveiling the lovely skin underneath.

"Daisuke?"

He swallowed and forced his eyes up toward Ken's face. "Yeah?"

"You all right?" Ken pressed a hand to his forehead, testing his temperature, and Daisuke burned under his touch. "You're a bit hot."

He wetted his lips, focusing his eyes on the cute crease between his eyebrows. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." He released a soft breath and pulled himself up again to test the water with a finger before turning off the faucet and turning his attention to the shelf nearby. "What kind of bath salts do you want? Towada? Maybe kirishima…?"

Ken released a soft laugh. "Anything is fine."

"Towada it is," Daisuke said, grabbing a packet. "I know you like citrus." He tore open the foil-lined packet and dumped the contents into the warm water.

A cloud of the powder billowed at the bottom of the tub before slowly spreading throughout, turning the water a milky gray, and the scent of citrus and herbs filled the humid air. Daisuke circled his finger through the water in a small attempt to help it circulate and twisted around, wiping his wet hand on his shorts.

Ken was down to his underwear, and the tight black material was all he could see—until Ken bent down so they were face to face, a gentle smile stretching his pink lips. "Thank you, Daisuke," he murmured, meeting his eyes before looking away again. "You didn't have to do any of this. It's very sweet."

Heat rose to his cheeks. "Oh, I, um…"

 _I want to take care of you_ sounded too intimate, but that's what it was.

Ken had been through far more than a person had any right to go through, especially someone as soft and kind and wonderful as he was, and more than anyone in the world, Ken deserved to be pampered, to be treasured, to be cared for. Of course, Daisuke preferred if he were that person—the one who got to pamper and treasure and care for Ken—though he wasn't sure he was worthy.

Well, the moment Ken straightened up and slipped his thumbs under the hem of his underwear, Daisuke _knew_ he wasn't worthy.

"Uh, uh, um…" He stumbled to his feet and gave Ken a wide berth as he passed, careful not to look directly at him. "I'll, um, see you when you're done, okay?"

He didn't give Ken a chance to respond before he was out the door and fastening it behind him.

Fuck.

Only a couple hours ago, he'd been ready to confess…well, he wasn't sure _what_ , but he'd definitely been about to confess _something_.

And now?

He hadn't even been able to look at Ken as he'd run out the door.

He was a coward.

"What?" Terriermon looked up from the dining table as he made his way back into the main living space. "You mean you're not staying in there to wash him?" The bunny Digimon giggled, nearly falling off the table in the process.

Daisuke shot him a scowl—he and Wallace were far too alike, and he did _not_ appreciate it.

Especially when Wallace glanced back from where he was grabbing something from the fridge. "Oh? What a shame."

"Shut up!"

He stormed into the bedroom and flopped on top of his bed, burying his face in the pillow.

Dammit.

His bed smelled like Ken.

He'd washed the sheets a couple days ago, and Ken had already permeated the fabric, left his scent in every nook and cranny.

God, how was he supposed to survive the fall semester without Ken? He wouldn't be able to stay here anymore, wouldn't be able to share his bed, except on the weekends. And how in the world was he supposed to deal with that when his bed would definitely still smell like Ken?

But also…

How was he supposed to survive the night _with_ Ken?

What were the odds he was going to have another wet dream about his best friend while sharing his bed with and cuddling said best friend? Because that was hard enough the first time—he really didn't need things to get any worse.

*

Daisuke's parents got back while Ken was soaking, a big bag of groceries in his dad's arms, and he and Wallace joined them at the table for some late-night sushi.

"Is Ken-kun going to bed already?" his mom asked as she dropped into the open chair.

"Probably…" Daisuke glanced toward the hallway. "You know he doesn't like to stay up late."

His mom sent him a scowl. "Then why do I constantly have to tell you two to be quiet at three in the morning?"

Wallace chuckled.

During their normal sleepovers, they would stay up late, playing games or watching movies till they were told to go to sleep—and then they'd stay up talking for hours. But that was when they weren't seeing each other every day and spending every waking moment together.

Now, it was much easier to just go to bed and sleep. They'd already spent all day talking.

"What, pray tell," Wallace murmured, leaning close to his ear, "are you two _doing_ at three in the morning that's so noisy?"

Daisuke elbowed him in the side. "Shut up!"

But Terriermon flapped his ears, flying up into the air from Wallace's other shoulder and landing instead on his partner's head. " _K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_ " he shouted happily, the English letters twittering like a song.

Ears and face bright red, Daisuke dipped his head to focus on the sushi on his plate, eternally grateful his parents' understanding of English was minimal at best.

Naturally, that was the moment Ken came into view, his hair wet enough beads of water dripped and rolled down his chest over the damp skin uncovered by Daisuke's own robe or the towel slung around his neck. Droplets pooled in the dip of his collarbone and glistened in the light.

"Ken-kun!" Daisuke's mom called out. "Come eat some sushi!"

Pink tinged his cheeks, and Ken lowered his head, but the wet strands didn't hide his face. "I, uh…" He stepped awkwardly toward the bedroom, but Daisuke's dad jumped to his feet before he could make his escape.

"Take my seat," he said, already moving his empty plate out of the way. "I'm not that hungry anyway."

All too quickly, Ken was pushed into the vacant seat, and he sat, body stiff with discomfort, as Daisuke's mom piled pieces of all the different kinds of sushi onto a fresh plate. Movements jittery, he lifted the towel around his neck to squeeze his still-wet strands of hair, drying them as much as he could under the circumstances.

Daisuke caught his eye and offered him a reassuring smile from the other side of the table, and Ken smiled back, his shoulders suddenly lighter.

"Thank you," he murmured when the plate and fresh chopsticks were placed in front of him.

Daisuke swallowed the sushi in his mouth and tried not to focus on Ken.

But when Ken lifted a piece of sushi and placed it in his mouth, movements gentle and delicate, how was he supposed to focus on anything else? When Ken's pink tongue darted out to lick his lips, when his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, how was he even supposed to think?

He couldn't look away.

Not even when Ken caught him staring.

Blushing, Ken dipped his head as he selected another piece, then returned his attention to Daisuke and smoothly slid the sushi into his mouth. Eyes locked, he wrapped his lips around the chopsticks and dragged them out, slow and steady, before reaching for another piece.

"Daisuke?"

He didn't look over at his mom's voice.

"Aren't you going to eat more?" Confusion laced her words. "Normally, you've stuffed half the platter down your open gullet before anyone else has had a chance to dish up."

He pushed away his half-eaten plate of sushi, but his eyes were glued to Ken. "Not hungry anymore."

She took the plate with a curious hum and muttered, "At least you're finally developing manners."

Ken frowned at his own plate, finally breaking eye contact, but then Wallace snorted and Terriermon whisper-yelled, " _Not hungry for food,_ " in English, and Ken's cheeks flushed a deep pink.

One look at Daisuke, though, was all it took for the tenseness that had taken over his shoulders to dissipate. The blush didn't leave his cheeks, but he returned to his few remaining pieces of sushi.

While Ken was eating, Daisuke wasn't conscious of anything else—didn't want to be. He stared, unable to hide his staring, and he _wanted_. He couldn't stop thinking about Ken's lips and Ken's mouth and the way Ken's throat bobbed when he swallowed and how full Ken's throat would be if he had those lips wrapped around something else.

He wanted Ken.

Wanted him out of that stupid bathrobe, naked and bare. Wanted him spread out across the table, wanted to push himself between those flexible legs and to taste his glistening skin, pale but pink, flushed from arousal at the touch of Daisuke's tongue and the feel of Daisuke pressing between his legs.

The only food he was interested in was if he could lick it off right Ken's naked body, if he could get drunk off the taste of Ken and food at the same time.

All too quickly, Ken finished and thanked his parents before disappearing into the bedroom.

The moment he was gone, Wallace leaned close to his ear. "How is your mom too dumb to notice when you two are having eye-sex right at the table next to her?"

Daisuke swallowed as heat rose to his cheeks and he tried to suppress the other heat coiling and pooling in his belly.

His mom came back to put away the leftovers, and his dad moved into their room to get ready for bed. He came out a moment later with pajamas tucked under one arm and said, "Either if you boys want the bath before me?"

Wallace shrugged. "I'm not in any hurry to get in bed."

Daisuke jumped up from his chair so fast it nearly fell over. "I want it!"

*

He'd had to hang up the laundry to dry and set up the futon and take out the trash first, so by the time Daisuke finished with a quick shower, he opted not to soak. He dried quickly, scrubbing at his hair with the towel, and donned the clothes he'd grabbed from the bedroom while Ken had been curled up under the covers with his book.

When he entered this time, the bedroom was dark and Ken had his back pressed to the wall.

Daisuke closed the door to keep the light out so as not to wake him.

Wallace was watching the news with his mom and probably wouldn't be in for a while, and for now, that left them alone.

Thankfully, Ken was already asleep.

Daisuke's hair was still damp when he lay down, slow and quiet to not disturb Ken, who was inconveniently a light sleeper, and he relaxed beside him, careful not to touch too much.

As much as he wanted to be close to Ken—so close separation was inconceivable, even impossible—the memories of last night's dream hadn't left him.

And the events of the day did not help.

Ken being asleep now meant he could fall asleep himself without worry, without distracting himself too much. He curled up on his side away from Ken and tried to relax.

The bed shifted.

A soft moan fell from Ken's mouth behind him. A soft moan that transitioned into his name and tugged with purpose at his belly button.

"Hmm?"

He wasn't sure Ken was actually awake or if that was part of some dream—either option made him ache with desire—until a cool hand slipped around him and up under his shirt to rest against his pounding heart. Ken's soft breathing fell across his neck and ghosted his ear, and that gorgeous lithe body pressed against his back.

"Daisuke…" he mumbled in his ear, words heavy with sleep. The heat of his breath grazed his ear and sent an electric jolt down his spine. "Why are you all the way over here?"

 _Because I don't want to hump you in my sleep_ seemed a bit too on the nose.

Instead, he rolled onto his back and lifted his arm so Ken could tuck his head into the crook of his neck, his hot breath tickling and tingling the sensitive skin.

Fuck, how was he supposed to sleep with Ken curled around him, his body flush against his side, his palm flattened over his heart?

He closed his arm around Ken, tucked his hand just above his hip, toyed with the hem of Ken's pajama top. He had to talk himself down from slipping underneath and memorizing every centimeter within reach—the ridges of his ribs down each side, the smooth curve of his abdomen, the sharp jut of his hip bone and the dip just to the inside that led beneath the hem of his pants and underwear.

"Daisuke," Ken murmured against his collarbone sleepily, "will you hold me? I want to feel your heart beat with mine…"

He released a shaky breath, but he couldn't deny Ken anything.

It took a moment to extract himself enough to yank off his shirt and toss it aside before he could position himself better, before he could lie on his side and hug Ken close enough their chests pressed together.

Ken's heartbeat pumped slowly, steadily, but it was faint through his thick pajamas.

With trembling fingers, Daisuke tugged the buttons loose, all the way down to his navel, then he hesitated before undoing the final two buttons as well. A shiver ran down Ken's spine, and he pushed close enough Daisuke could feel the gentle throb of his heart, beating in sync with his.

Daisuke slotted their legs together and tried not to moan and rut against Ken's thigh as it pressed firmly against his groin.

Instead, he tucked his head into Ken's hair and breathed in the rich citrus scent. He wrapped his arm around Ken's ribs, under the unbuttoned pajama top, and lay his palm against his spine so he could feel their heartbeats reverberating through Ken's entire body.

Ken did the same, arching and coiling around him until Daisuke couldn't tell them apart. All he could do was revel at how perfectly their bodies fit together as Ken nosed at the crook of his neck and released a low, pleased sigh that left him desperate and needy and torturously hard against Ken's thigh.

Thankfully, Ken was too tired to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ken is in love with Daisuke's heart in every way.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, this chapter was a bit of a struggle. Hopefully it's not too bad.

Ken wrapped his arms around Wormmon the moment his partner was in the bedroom again. "I'm glad you're back," he murmured against the Digimon's soft cheek. "I missed you."

The caterpillar Digimon pulled back to look him in the face, assessing him silently before venturing to say, "Well?"

Ken frowned. "Well _what_?"

"Did you and Daisuke Jogress?" Wormmon looked at him with the biggest, most hopeful eyes, and Ken flushed at the implication.

The first thing that came to mind was waking up this morning, his shirt unbuttoned and spread open so his chest could rest firmly against Daisuke's, skin to skin. He'd trembled at the realization of how close they truly were, at the thought of their skin sticking and sealing together till they were inseparable, desperately wondering how well they'd fit together if their shirts hadn't been the only clothing pushed out of the way.

He had no memory of Daisuke coming to bed or anything after that, but it didn't seem likely Daisuke would have opened up his shirt on his own. Daisuke wouldn't have done that without permission.

Nevertheless, no matter which one of them had undone the buttons on his pajama top, Ken had reveled in the feel of their hearts beating as one, the powerful thuds echoing in tune through his chest, utterly hypnotizing. He'd wanted to close his eyes and fall into it, sink into Daisuke's warm embrace until he was a permanent fixture attached to his sternum.

The hard, pulsing morning wood pressed against the crevice just inside his hip hadn't helped either. It had only added to the arousal pooling in his stomach.

Wormmon leaned closer to his ear and whispered, "Did you kiss?"

A soft sigh fell from his lips.

Somehow, they had done far more and far less than kissing over the day and a half Wormmon and V-mon had spent in the Digital World together. But no matter how incredibly intimate and charged their interactions had been, it didn't amount to much if their relationship remained stagnant, if nothing changed.

His Digimon visibly deflated before he could even utter a word, but he quickly puffed up his chest and forced confidence into his sweet face. "Don't worry, Ken-chan," he said, voice strong and compelling. "We'll make sure you get to Jogress with Daisuke."

Ken could only be grateful Daisuke had already taken V-mon out to the kitchen to feed him.

"Come on," he murmured against his partner's form, turning toward the open bedroom door. "Let's get you something to eat, all right?"

"Hmm, yes," Wormmon agreed as they made their way toward the dining area. "Before V-mon devours everything in sight."

Ken chuckled quietly.

In the kitchen, Daisuke and Wallace were leaning against the counter, pressed close together and talking in low voices, while V-mon and Terriermon sat at the table and devoured the onigiri and anpan laid out for them. Ken dropped Wormmon into the chair next to V-mon, and the blue dragon Digimon grinned as he offered him some anpan.

Yes, Wormmon settled in with the Digimon happily, but Ken hesitated before joining Daisuke and Wallace on the other side of the peninsula.

"Hey, Ken," Wallace said with a grin, stepping away from Daisuke. "You want something to drink?" He moved toward the fridge without waiting for a response and came back with a couple cans of tea. He offered a can of milk tea to Ken, who accepted it with a skeptical smile, before shoving a can of matcha into Daisuke's chest.

"Huh?" Daisuke looked up at him with a furrowed brow. "What?"

Wallace snorted. "Trust me, you need the higher caffeine." His face contorted into a wide smirk. "What were you doing instead of sleeping while I was away?"

Daisuke's face turned bright red.

Ken popped the tab on his milk tea and turned away, pretending not to notice. Daisuke definitely didn't want him to notice.

And he especially didn't like the implication because he had been _trying_ to get Daisuke to do more than just sleeping in bed while Wallace was away, and Daisuke had completely missed every opportunity.

"Shut up," Daisuke mumbled.

Wallace chuckled, then popped the tab on his own drink. "You know," he said, shifting easily into English and dropping his voice so Ken could barely hear, "there's no shame in wanting to bone your sexy best friend…"

Daisuke gaped at his American friend, unable to form words.

Ken's English wasn't as good as Daisuke's, but surely Wallace was aware he spoke the language well enough to understand. Wasn't he?

Sure, he didn't know _all_ of those words, but he knew enough to get the gist of it.

"And there's definitely no shame in succeeding," Wallace added, and when Daisuke dropped his head in a failed attempt to hide his scarlet face, the blond shot Ken a wink.

Then again…

Perhaps that was exactly the point. Wallace _wanted_ him to hear what he said, while acting under the pretense of not wanting him to.

"I-I-I just couldn't sleep well," Daisuke stuttered in Japanese.

Wallace cackled, his eyes still holding Ken's gaze. "Oh, I know."

*

The following day was Tuesday, when Daisuke and Ken had their weekly dinners.

That evening, Daisuke led them to one of his favorite kare-ya near Aqua City, just a few blocks away from the apartment. He and Ken went there often because it was cheap and delicious, and the owner would come out to say hi when he had the time.

Daisuke ordered their usual and—after a sharp look from Ken—a bowl of pork curry rice for Wallace. Ken would have gone into the importance of introducing your foreign friend to the standard versions of the dish before forcing him into something more experimental, but he didn't have to say a word.

"You seem in a better mood," Wallace said after taking a sip of his soda.

Heat colored Daisuke's cheeks at the teasing tone, and he sent his friend a glare. "Yeah, till you open your mouth," he snapped.

Wallace chuckled, but on Daisuke's other side, Ken leaned down to let Wormmon have a drink from his water glass and whisper something close to his Digimon's antennae, letting his hair fall in his face to hide his expression.

Daisuke didn't like that.

The caterpillar Digimon looked up and met Daisuke's eyes for a moment before turning to his partner. He whispered back, though he wasn't nearly as subtle as Ken: "Would it help if V-mon and I Jogressed too?"

Ken froze, but his face was still hidden away.

Daisuke frowned.

Any time he couldn't read Ken, couldn't figure out why he was upset, uneasiness pooled in his stomach. Sure, Ken had always liked his secrets, but if he kept them even from Daisuke, there was something seriously wrong.

"No," Ken finally said, his voice a little clearer, a little too firm. "No, that's not necessary."

V-mon popped up from under the table—what hell was he doing under there?—and practically threw himself into the narrow spot next to Wormmon. "Are you sure? It sounds kind of fun!"

Daisuke frowned. "Why do we need Jogress?"

Unable to speak, Ken shot him a wide-eyed glance, his face completely red.

Wallace eyed Ken and the Digimon suspiciously. "Jogress evolution?" He pursed his lips in thoughts, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Like when you two _merge_?" Laughter bubbled in his throat before anyone could respond. "Oh, is _that_ what we're calling it now?"

Ken's flush deepened, and he curled in on himself.

"Hey…" Daisuke scooted closer to Ken on the bench and rested a hand on his forearm. "Do we need to go?"

For a long minute, Ken remained tense and stiff. He didn't speak, didn't even look at him, trying to hide the intensifying blush behind his beautiful hair.

Then, his shoulders crumpled.

"Of course not," he mumbled, pulling away. "I'm fine."

Daisuke's hand dropped to the bench between them, and he glared down at the empty space where he should've been holding Ken. "If you're sure."

Hesitant fingers landed atop his hand, tracing over his dry knuckles. "I'm okay."

This time, Daisuke almost believed him.

Wallace cleared his throat, and they looked up as bowls of curry rice were spread across the table. All too quickly, V-mon pushed his way into the spot between Daisuke and Ken, nudging them apart, and helped himself to the large bowl Daisuke had gotten just for him.

Daisuke watched as Ken shared his meal with his partner, quieter than normal.

Watched and wondered and sighed before finally turning his attention to his bowl of katsu curry, though he couldn't find much energy to dig in.

"I, um…" Ken wetted his lips in the middle of lifting a bite to his mouth. "I just wanted to remind you that I'm going home tomorrow."

Daisuke's stomach dropped. "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Right, yeah."

Ken sent him a small, reassuring smile. "I'll be back Friday, of course."

He nodded.

Wallace swallowed down his mouthful of rice. "Another movie night?"

"No."

"Yes."

Daisuke and Ken locked eyes, and with pursed lips, Daisuke relented. "Okay, so it's not _just_ a movie night."

A soft sigh fell from Ken's lips. "No, silly, it's your birthday."

"What?" Wallace looked between the two of them. "Why didn't you say anything? Aren't we having a party? Cake and ice cream and balloons? I have to get you a present…"

"No, you don't." Daisuke shook his head. "We're just going to do what we always do—everyone hangs out and watches movies."

But Wallace clasped his hands over his bowl and grinned. "Surely there's _something_ you'd like for your birthday…"

Daisuke shot him a curious glance. "Like what?"

His American friend simply shifted his gaze toward Ken and said, "Oh, I don't know. I can think of something you definitely want to unwrap and expose."

"Huh?"

"You have something to give him, right, Ken?"

Ken didn't look up. Once again, he was hiding behind a curtain of his sleek hair, his body tense and decidedly uncomfortable. "Of course I do," he mumbled. "And no, I won't tell you what it is."

Wallace chuckled but let the topic go.

*

By the time they were lying in bed that night, Daisuke couldn't sleep.

Not that sleep had come particularly easily the last few days. At this point, he was just thankful his dreams had been more under control the past couple nights, but that certainly didn't mean he'd been sleeping well.

Especially when all he could think about was Ken at dinner—hiding his face, having weird conversations about Jogress with _their_ partners, his body completely tense—and the fact that Ken had to go away again.

He had gotten far too used to sharing his bed, far too comfortable sleeping with Ken in his bed, far too worried about how he'd fare after classes started and he couldn't hold Ken every night.

"Do you really have to go tomorrow?" Daisuke whispered, his voice cracking with his hesitation.

"I have your present at home," Ken murmured, his voice muted as he was facing the wall.

He released a shaky breath. "I don't want you to go."

For a long moment, Ken didn't move or react. But then, slowly, he shifted and twisted to look Daisuke in the eye. "I know," he said, close enough they were nearly nose to nose. "I don't want to go either."

"Then stay."

A pretty pink flush rose to Ken's cheeks, and he smiled, his voice teasing. "If I stay, you'll just ask me to stay the next night too, won't you?"

Daisuke nodded. "I will."

"I can't stay forever…"

"I know."

Ken glanced down toward their Digimon, and Daisuke hesitated before following his gaze. At the foot of the bed, V-mon and Wormmon were curled up together, so close they were entirely intertwined—how he preferred to sleep with Ken, how he probably could if he had the strength to shift closer.

But he didn't.

Sure, he hadn't had another wet dream the past two nights, even with them pressed so close together he could feel their hearts beating in sync, but that closeness made him nervous, anxious his body would react and Ken would _notice_.

He didn't want Ken to notice until he had a chance to talk to Ken about it, until he had the opportunity to tell Ken exactly how he felt and what he wanted.

"What are you thinking about?" Ken asked.

Daisuke looked back at him, anxiously aware of how close they were, of how little effort it would take to close the gap and kiss him.

And very aware of how much he wanted to.

But if Ken were to reject him…

He couldn't force Ken to feel like he had to head back to Tamachi in the middle of the night. He couldn't allow himself to make Ken feel unsafe here.

Daisuke frowned. "It's nothing."

Ken hummed. "It looks serious."

A soft laugh fell from his lips. "Yeah, a little bit."

No matter how much he tried to hide it, Ken always knew when something was wrong. He was finely attuned to any subtle changes, and as much as Daisuke often struggled to understand Ken's idiosyncrasies, he liked to think he too was attuned to Ken.

"Well…" Ken sighed, shifting slightly closer, close enough he could tuck his head into Daisuke's shoulder. "I'm sure you'll tell me when you're ready."

Daisuke released a slow breath and, despite his hesitations, let himself run his fingers through Ken's silky locks. He eased his arm under the pillow and Ken's neck and pulled Ken even tighter against his chest until his ridiculously—sexily—tall friend arched and bowed and curved into him.

It was dangerous, falling asleep with Ken like this.

It was dangerous to hold him so tight and enjoy the way Ken coiled and curled so he could fit in Daisuke's embrace. It was dangerous to relish the way Ken's slender fingers splayed over the patch of T-shirt that covered Daisuke's heart.

But as much as he could deny himself small pleasures, he could never deny Ken something he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. They ate food and there was no food porn. Weird, right?
> 
> For anyone unaware, Daisuke doesn't dislike his birthday or anything (though I doubt he has any spectacular birthday memories from his childhood either). Birthdays just aren't a big deal in Japan, not the way they are in the US, so it's just a really weird cultural experience for Wallace.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> November is for long fics, so I'll be mostly focusing on this for the month. I've already got the next two chapters partially written, and I'm really freaking excited to get to Daisuke's birthday! I've been planning this for SO MANY MONTHS and I can't wait lasdjflasldjflasdfjkl
> 
> Also, we're having a **Daiken Secret Santa** , and I'm super excited. Basically, you write a fic of 1,000 words or make an art piece or something like that ALL ABOUT DAIKEN for your recipient, and get a gift in return! If you don't feel comfy writing or doing art but have something else you'd like to contribute, shoot the mods an email :)
> 
> [Sign-ups are open here](https://forms.gle/f7BcBwE46RJwkEke6), and the more people participate, the more fun it is!!!
> 
> (But seriously, please sign up...I wanna write gift fics lol)

Stirring the bowl of miso soup with his chopsticks, Ken could barely focus on the sedated conversation around him.

Mr. Motomiya had already left for work, but Mrs. Motomiya had taken the time to throw together the soup and some rice before she started to get ready to run some errands. Of course, Daisuke then took it upon himself to grab a few eggs from the bowl on the counter and start making omelets, grumbling that she hadn't made nearly enough food for their Digimon too, which was true.

Beside him, Wallace picked at his rice, his eyes strangely focused on the food in front of him.

Wallace being so quiet and pensive was confusing, to say the least, and it left Ken feeling nervous and out of his depth. But the idea of probing him, interrogating him about his weird behavior, was even more unsettling.

Maybe Daisuke would say something when he joined them.

But when Daisuke slid into the open seat next to him a few moments later—after taking a plate piled high out to Wormmon, V-mon, and Terriermon in the living room—he didn't even glance at Wallace.

"Here, taste this," he commanded, holding out a piece of tamagoyaki, a hopeful look on his beautifully golden face. "How is it?"

Ken smiled—Daisuke couldn't even let him taste it before questioning him—and leaned closer, lips spread so Daisuke could slide the piece into his mouth. His eyes fell shut as he chewed and shifted the food around, letting the sweet, delicate flavor dance along his taste buds.

"Well?"

Daisuke's voice had dropped low and quiet.

Ken pretended not to let that distract him.

His eyes fluttered open as he swallowed, and his breath caught at the way Daisuke leaned in to him, far closer than before he'd shut his eyes. "You're getting better at that," he murmured, heating rising to his cheeks.

Daisuke hadn't taken his eyes off Ken's lips. "I-I've been practicing."

A bright smile tugged at Ken's mouth.

It had been a while since the last time Daisuke had made tamagoyaki, but these certainly _looked_ like he'd been practicing. Though he certainly hadn't been practicing over the last two weeks.

"I can tell."

Daisuke's face broke into a big grin, and he quickly grabbed another piece of the omelet with his chopsticks and held it aloft for him, hope and glee glistening in his chocolate eyes.

This time, Ken kept his eyes open as he wrapped his lips around the food.

He wanted to watch the way Daisuke's eyes dilated and his mouth dropped open and he leaned slightly closer, his stuttering breath ghosting over Ken's damp lips, driving him to distraction. He wanted to see Daisuke's body tremble when a small moan of delight rumbled in his throat.

The way Daisuke stared, the way he shifted just slightly closer, the way he shivered with anticipation…

Ken wanted to close the distance between them, to capture Daisuke's mouth with his own and kiss him like their lives depended on it. He wanted to bury himself in Daisuke's arms, press their hearts together, and melt into him until they were one.

Wallace cleared his throat. "Wow."

Daisuke yanked back, and Ken twisted to look at the other person sitting at the table.

"By all means," he said, his mouth twisting into an amused smirk, "don't let _my_ presence stop you from…"

Ken's face turned a bright pink, and he looked down at his half empty bowls of miso soup and rice as he finished the omelet bite in his mouth.

"Or are you going to start feeding _everyone_?" Wallace asked with a laugh.

Daisuke scoffed. "You're perfectly capable of feeding yourself."

"Right…" Wallace chuckled and grabbed a couple pieces of tamagoyaki from the platter Daisuke had brought in from the kitchen. "But apparently Ken can't."

He tried to hide his flushed face behind a curtain of dark hair, but one glance at Daisuke, his golden cheeks bright red as he grabbed another slice of tamagoyaki and brought it close to his mouth, left him feeling simultaneously self-conscious and uncomfortably daring.

But once he had the idea, he couldn't put it out of his head.

Ken's slender fingers stretched out to lay atop Daisuke's forearm, pausing him before he could eat the piece of omelet.

Daisuke stared at him, curiosity sparkling in his eyes, but when Ken leaned in with his fingers still holding on, his mouth falling open, Daisuke inhaled sharply at the realization and offered the tamagoyaki to him instead.

His grip tightened as his mouth enveloped Daisuke's creation.

When the sweet flavor and smooth texture filled his mouth, Ken let out a soft moan, but his focus was on the way Daisuke's cheeks darkened and his breath stuttered and how much he wanted Daisuke to react like that again.

"Well, on that note," Wallace said flatly—interrupting _again_ , "I have to run out for a few hours today, so feel free to continue whatever this is when I'm _not_ here."

That sounded perfectly all right to Ken.

But when Daisuke spoke, the words tumbled out haphazardly: "I, uh, I have to…check on something." And before anyone could speak, he stumbled out of his chair and bolted down the hallway.

Out of the sight, the bathroom door slammed shut.

Ken tried not to let the disappointment roiling around in his stomach take too much of his attention as he turned to Wallace, cheeks still flushed but desperately trying to pretend nothing was amiss. "Oh?" he asked, forcing curiosity into the words. "Where are you going?"

Wallace smirked, his bright blue eyes sparkling. "Does it matter as long as you two are alone?"

His eyes darted toward the hallway again, and he worried his bottom lip. "Can I ask you something?" he whispered, not daring to be loud.

"Hmm?" He arched a blond eyebrow.

Ken ran his tongue over his lip, building up his courage, but he wasn't sure who else to ask, who else wouldn't be too curious or potentially offended by such a personal question. As abrasive as Wallace often was, that somehow made him the ideal person.

"You…" he tried, but he had to take a deep breath and start again. "You have _experience_ , right?"

Wallace's usually carefree face morphed into confusion. "What kind of experience?"

"You know, with _other guys_ ," Ken added in a quiet voice, his face growing hot.

His eyebrows whipped up. "Are you asking me for _sex advice_?"

If he had been pink before, now Ken was surely red.

Wallace took a moment to eat some of his tamagoyaki before he finally said, "You want my advice?" He twirled his glass of water in his fingers before taking a drink. "Tell Daisuke exactly what you want—he's not going to get it if you don't say it—and then you guys can figure out the sex part _together_."

Ken's eyes fell shut.

He honestly hadn't expected a serious response. He'd been waiting for Wallace to use the opportunity to hit on him, to offer to show him the ins and outs so to speak.

"If you need more, ahem, _detailed_ advice…" Wallace shrugged, trying to hold back his laughter. "You know how to research, right?"

Ken gave a short nod.

But Wallace was already moving on. "Anyway, I'll be gone for like three hours, which gives you two plenty of time to research together…"

*

By the time Daisuke ventured out of the bathroom, Wallace had finished his food, and he and Terriermon were getting ready to head out to do…whatever it was Wallace had said.

Which left him and Ken alone again.

He tried to fight the dread filling his lungs, making it hard to breathe, but he was also more than a little excited at the opportunity it presented. He'd been trying to build up the courage to talk to Ken since the weekend, but there hadn't been any time they were alone enough to do it.

Ken was lounging on the couch with their Digimon when Daisuke returned to his breakfast, and he looked up and smiled. The television was on in the background, but Ken didn't seem to be paying much attention to it, too busy chatting with Wormmon and V-mon in low voices instead, both Digimon perched on his stomach and falling off the sides of his narrow frame.

Watching them as he downed his cold miso soup and shoveled in his rice and tamagoyaki, Daisuke couldn't help the pleasure bubbling in his stomach. Seeing Ken interact with V-mon with the same fondness he showed Wormmon affected him more than he'd realized.

It only further cemented what he needed to do.

After washing the breakfast dishes, Daisuke wandered into the living room with a couple bottles of water and dropped them onto the table. "What're you watching?"

Ken looked up at him with a bright smile, and Daisuke had to stop to stare. He looked utterly beautiful with his soft hair framing his face, his shirt falling loose around his collarbone, their Digimon wrapped in his arms. "Oh," he said, glancing toward the TV, "I just had the news on. We can watch a movie or something if you want?"

Daisuke only nodded.

It took a little adjustment, but Ken shifted to sit up, Wormmon and V-mon curled up together on his lap now, and patted the spot where he'd just had his head. "What do you want to watch?" he asked, glancing around for the remote.

Daisuke grabbed it from the table before taking the open seat, and Ken leaned against his shoulder with a happy sigh.

"Hmm," Ken murmured, nuzzling his cheek into the crook of Daisuke's neck, setting his slender fingers on his thigh, "what do you want to watch?"

But before Daisuke could answer, Ken grabbed the front of his shirt with a laugh.

"Take this off," he said, tugging on the loose blue tee.

"What?"

He couldn't breathe.

Ken smiled at him sweetly. "You splashed water all over yourself while doing the dishes. Take this off."

Daisuke wetted his lips and pulled back enough to pull the damp T-shirt over his head, and before he had fully settled back into his seat again, Ken leaned into him again, this time letting his cool hand curl over his tense stomach.

"Daisuke!"

V-mon dove at his chest from Ken's lap, pushing him down on his side, and Ken slid with him, hugging Wormmon to his side, both of them laughing all the while.

They wound up in a heap, Daisuke halfway on his back with V-mon bouncing around on his chest, squishing the air out of his lungs, and Ken and Wormmon lying on top of him, Ken's silky hair splayed across his bare stomach.

Daisuke extracted his arm from under Ken to lift V-mon into the air with a glare. "You have way too much energy, buddy," he announced.

"Of course I have energy!" the dragon Digimon announced with a loud giggle. "We just had breakfast!"

"I think Ken and Wormmon want a nice, quiet morning," he said, lowering his voice. "Think you can manage that?"

V-mon pouted and wouldn't meet his eyes.

With a grumble, Daisuke twisted enough to set his Digimon on the couch by his head and fished out the remote again. "How 'bout this, huh?" He offered it to his partner with a dramatic flourish. " _You_ get to choose the movie we watch, okay?"

V-mon's eyes lit up instantly, and he snatched the remote and began flipping through the channels.

Laughing, Daisuke shifted to get his elbows underneath him so he could sit up again, but Ken moved faster.

He scooted upward, slipped a leg between Daisuke's, his thigh pressing right against Daisuke's groin, and lay his head on Daisuke's chest, ear flat against his heart. "Hmm, this is comfy," he murmured, his breath ghosting across Daisuke's naked skin. He hugged one arm against Daisuke's ribs, and Wormmon curled up on his hip like an oversize cat. "Let's stay like this."

"Okay," Daisuke squeaked out, all too aware of the intimate placement of Ken's limbs.

Ken didn't seem to notice, though, as he burrowed in closer, settling as close as physically possible, and all Daisuke could do was drop his hand so it landed softly on Ken's shoulder and the nape of his neck.

He tried to focus on the TV screen, on whatever V-mon decided they should watch.

But the moment V-mon settled on something, Ken's fingers grazed over his ribs, sending ticklish pleasure down his spine. Soft finger pads danced across his skin in an aimless fashion, fluttering here, flitting there, and it wouldn't be a problem if Daisuke could focus on literally anything else, anything but the way Ken's body was glued to his and the way Ken's thigh pressed firmly against his growing arousal.

His heart was pounding hard and fast in his chest, and there was no way Ken could miss it with his ear pressed right over it, yet he didn't seem to notice.

Instead, his fingers played along, tracing up just far enough to graze his nipple, drawing a gasp from Daisuke's mouth and a jolt of desire from his body—something Ken definitely couldn't have missed considering where his thigh was.

Ken sighed—Daisuke tried not to squirm underneath him—and then his fingertip circled the nipple and again when it peaked.

Daisuke swallowed.

Tried to focus on the movie.

But Ken's soft fingers teased and toyed with his nipple, trailed over his ribs, traced along the waist of his boxers, barely sticking out from under his shorts, and Daisuke couldn't focus on anything but stopping himself from rolling his hips and rutting against Ken's lean thigh.

"Daisuke?" he murmured, his breath only adding to the desire pooling in Daisuke's stomach.

"Y-you're staying, right?" He licked his lips, tried to actually _breathe_. "You're staying the night tonight? Not heading out yet?"

Ken's laughter ghosted across his skin. "You asked me to." Slim fingers crawled up his side again, racking Daisuke's body with a powerful shudder. "I'll stay right here as long as you want me to."

And dear god did Daisuke want him to stay right there, in his arms and close to his heart.

Preferably forever.

But then Ken lifted his head enough to make eye contact, and the mesmerizing determination in those blue-violet eyes stunned him to silence. "Daisuke," he said quietly, "that's what you want, isn't it?"

How could there ever be any question?

But he wasn't sure they were having the same conversation. He wasn't sure he knew exactly what Ken was trying to say, and he wasn't sure Ken understood what the idea of Ken _staying_ meant to him in return.

He opened his mouth, wanted to explain, wanted to tell Ken what these moments meant, how they made him feel.

He wanted to ask if they meant as much to Ken too.

But all he could say was, "Yeah, of course."

Ken smiled and dropped his head back down, tucked his arms close and relaxed.

They lay like that for a while, both of them holding each other close, unwilling or unable to break the comfortable yet tense silence.

Daisuke had no idea what V-mon had chosen to watch, but it didn't matter with Ken curled up on top of him. He ran his fingers through Ken's soft locks, enjoying the way the strands separated in his tender grasp.

The front door squeaked open and closed loudly, keys jingling with the movement.

Ken pulled away, careful not to disturb Wormmon, and Daisuke sat up just in time for Jun to waltz into the living room, a bag slung over her shoulder.

Daisuke cocked his head. "What are you doing here?"

She grinned, her mischievous eyes glancing between them. "I'm here to celebrate your birthday, little brother. Did you expect me to bail?"

He pursed his lips.

He certainly wouldn't put it past her. She had last year. And the year before that.

"So I'll be here till Saturday," she said before turning back down the hall to go to her old bedroom.

Ken ran his fingers through his hair once she was out of sight, fixing the order he'd messed up not too long ago. "You didn't know she'd be here?" he asked in a quiet voice and readjusted so Wormmon, half asleep, was in his lap again.

A scowl tugged at Daisuke's mouth. "Like she ever actually says what she's planning. She probably just wants a chance to dig at me while my friends are here."

Ken shot him a warning look. "You should have more faith in her."

Which was, okay, _maybe_ true.

But that didn't make Daisuke any less right either.

Jun came out a moment later and threw herself on the open spot of the sectional, grinning at the two of them. "So what are you two doing here all alone? Did you scare off your American friend already, Daisuke? I thought Willis would last a bit longer than that."

Daisuke rolled his eyes.

Oh, good.

What a great fucking birthday this would be.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know they really need to talk but...

Daisuke had no idea how long the movie had been going. It felt like it had been playing forever, but he was pretty sure it'd just started.

Of course, he'd barely been paying attention in the first place.

And he's lost all hope of following the story the moment Ken had leaned close and asked him to bring them a snack. It was dark out now, so it must've been a while since they'd eaten anything.

He didn't remember them having the souffle cheesecake sitting in the middle of the top shelf of the fridge, but he plated a slice anyway and grabbed a set of chopsticks.

Ken's eyes lit up the moment he dropped onto the couch again, dessert in hand. "I wasn't expecting that," he murmured, voice low. His entrancing pink tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Daisuke was lost.

"Uh, yeah."

Blue-violet eyes darted up from the plate to meet his. "One set of chopsticks?"

There was a heaviness in the air, something tense and uncertain between them, and Daisuke could only nod.

His eyes sparkling, and he leaned against his shoulder with a bright smile. "Then are you going to feed me? Or do I need to lick it right off the plate?"

Oh fuck.

Face hot, unable to speak, Daisuke ducked his head and tried to distract from the arousal jolting through his body at the thought of Ken's tongue wiping across the plate, his hot breath spanning across the ceramic. It wasn't difficult for that image to blur into Ken's tongue and hot breath gliding across his own skin instead.

God, Ken really had no idea what it did to have him pressed so close, his delicate hand splayed on Daisuke's thigh, and opening his mouth, silently begging for Daisuke to slide the bite of dessert inside.

Or maybe Ken knew _exactly_ what it did to him.

His fingers curled, nails digging into Daisuke's leg through the pajama pants, as Daisuke sliced off a bite and held it out to him. And when Ken's eyes fluttered shut, Daisuke slipped the fluffy cheesecake into his awaiting mouth, lips spread, breath stuttering in anticipation.

The slow moan that rumbled in Ken's throat as he worked the cheesecake around his mouth sent a powerful wave of pleasure through Daisuke's body, rousing the desire in his gut, slamming into his chest and jumpstarting his heart. The nails gripping his upper thigh certainly weren't helping either, grounding him and connecting him to Ken's pleasure.

Ken sighed happily after swallowing, and his eyes fluttered open just enough to look at him, but they remained soft and hooded. "It's delicious," he whispered. "More?"

Daisuke sliced into the cheesecake again and held out another piece for him.

This time, when Ken pulled the dessert into his mouth, not all of it quite made it. A small glob clung to his lip, and Daisuke had to fight the urge to reach out and wipe it away.

Ken's pink tongue darted out to try to grab it, sweeping slowly across his bottom lip, and Daisuke's heart twisted and burned, a light fluttering feeling in his chest. The fact that Ken couldn't quite get it all only made that feeling stronger.

Until he couldn't resist anymore and leaned in to swipe the creamy fluff from Ken's lip.

For a moment, he hesitated, his thumb hovering centimeters from Ken's mouth, covered in the bit of cheesecake, and Ken's gaze caught his eye before he dipped down and sucked that thumb into his hot mouth.

Daisuke whimpered.

Ken moaned as his tongue swept over the thumb, as he sucked the creamy cheesecake from his skin and kept sucking till there couldn't have been even a trace of the dessert.

Not that that stopped Ken's eyes from fluttering shut as he laved the calloused skin and his breathing turned erratic.

Daisuke's wasn't any better.

He started to pull back, to withdraw from Ken's delectable mouth, but Ken followed, refusing to release him, and practically climbed onto his lap to keep hold of his thumb.

Oh god, Ken _did_ climb into his lap.

Daisuke clutched the plate close to his chest as Ken settled on his thighs, knees spread wide so they fell on either side of Daisuke's legs, scooting his hips close enough Daisuke was sure he'd be able to feel his growing arousal.

Only then did Ken release his powerful grip on Daisuke's thumb.

His eyes blinked open slowly, and Daisuke hugged the plate close to his chest, clutching it tight with both hands, trying not to focus on Ken's mesmerizing gaze and pink lips, slightly puffy and swollen. 

"How is it?" Daisuke managed to rumble.

Ken cocked an eyebrow. "Taste it and find out for yourself."

Fingers trembling, Daisuke barely managed to slice off more and bring the small bite to his lips, and Ken studied him carefully as he chewed, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

"It's good, right?"

All Daisuke could do was nod.

The living room was teeming with everyone for their movie night, pulsing with the energy of nearly a dozen people laughing and chattering around them, but Ken's entrancing eyes held his. They held him so tight he couldn't look away, wouldn't have even if he could, and when Ken murmured, "Feed me," there wasn't any question as to whether he would.

Eyes falling shut in pleasure again, Ken shifted his hips as Daisuke fed him another bite, his fingers digging into the couch cushions, a pleased moan echoing off the wall behind them, and Daisuke had to suppress a whimper.

He should be focusing on the movie, should be enjoying whatever kung fu flick V-mon had picked out. It was exactly the type of thing he'd normally enjoy—lots of action, lots of laughs, cool martial arts.

But the plot was incomprehensible when he couldn't take his eyes off Ken.

How could he possibly look away when Ken was quivering and moaning like the cheesecake was enough to make him orgasm? When those shaky, rocking movements only drew more attention to his unmistakable arousal?

All he could do was keep feeding him, keep slicing the souffle cheesecake into small bites and placing them tenderly in Ken's expectant mouth, keep staring as Ken vocalized his approval.

And when Ken rocked his hips as he consumed the final bite, Daisuke couldn't hide the whimper of desperation and was long past caring. There was no way Ken had missed the very obvious hard-on since he was sitting right on top of it.

Daisuke practically dropped the empty plate and chopsticks on the couch next to them and grabbed hold of Ken's spread thighs, gripped them tight.

He had to hold on to something to keep himself from breaking down and rutting up against him.

But it only encouraged Ken to roll his hips, to grab Daisuke by his bare shoulders and rock against him, to throw his head back and expose the pale expanse of his smooth neck. Which was definitely not something Daisuke needed on full display like that.

Ken's breath came out fast and rough and ragged, his eyes clenched shut, his perfect lips parted and opening wider with each gasping moan.

Oh fuck.

That definitely didn't help.

Daisuke could only drop his head against Ken's chest, listen to the spastic thumping inside his rib cage, and groan at the mounting pressure, fingers clamping around Ken's lean thighs, trying to draw him even closer.

Every part of him was on fire, and the rest of the world had disappeared.

All that mattered was him and Ken, Ken and Daisuke, and how they worked and moved as one, how their bodies had become as entwined as their souls, how Daisuke never wanted to let him go, never intended to…

*

Daisuke was dreaming.

Ken could tell because his grip tightened and trembled and his breath stuttered against the back of Ken's neck.

Blinking his eyes open, forcing himself to wake up, Ken laid his hand over Daisuke's, tucked slightly under the hem of his shirt, and entwined their fingers. Daisuke's grip clamped around him in return, and Ken inhaled sharply at the painfully tight hold.

Daisuke's pulse was pounding, his heart thumping hard against Ken's back, and Ken shimmied until they were flush together, back pressed firmly against Daisuke's chest, closing all distance between them.

He regretted it almost immediately.

The way Daisuke's hand clenched around his made him gasp, and his eyes fell shut when he felt the hard-on pressing against the small of his back.

That's why Daisuke was so jittery. He was having a sex dream.

Or something.

Hot breath on the back of Ken's neck sent shivers down his spine, and Daisuke nosed at the crook of Ken's neck, whimpered against his tender skin.

"Ken…"

Suddenly, it didn't matter that they weren't alone.

He didn't care that Wormmon and V-mon were curled up on the bed with them. He didn't care that Wallace and Terriermon were asleep on the futon below. Or that Jun was in the room next door and Daisuke's parents not much farther away.

Daisuke whimpered his name, and all he cared about was feeling Daisuke against him.

He rolled his hips, gasping at the way Daisuke's erection pressed harder into him. It didn't take much for his body to respond, his desire growing exponentially as Daisuke's breath quivered and shook.

Calloused fingers tightened around his again, but the pain didn't matter when Daisuke rocked against him and all Ken could think about was how much he wanted Daisuke to touch him, how much he wanted Daisuke to tear off his clothes and rut against him with no barriers to hold him back, how much he wanted to _merge_ in every meaning of the word.

Ken struggled to pull his other arm out from under himself and pressed it firmly to the front of his pajama bottoms, relishing the pressure against his own erection, wishing it were Daisuke's hand instead.

He rolled his hips, stifling a moan, and trembled when Daisuke responded, jutting forward, rocked into him. Daisuke's hand tightened again, gripped him hard, and Ken tried to suppress the urge to grind into him.

It wasn't right.

Daisuke was asleep, and this…this was taking advantage of him.

But Daisuke rutted against him, and Ken whimpered and ground his hips backward, his entire body on fire and quivering with want. He couldn't stop himself if he tried.

And he stopped trying.

Daisuke was having a sex dream _about him_ , and all Ken wanted was for Daisuke to fuck him for real, everyone else in the room—everyone else in the _apartment_ —be damned. An increasingly large part of him had stopped caring, just wanted to moan and cry and come with reckless abandon.

And the way Daisuke bucked and writhed, his arousal hard and persistent against his ass, left Ken feeling overwhelmed and intoxicated.

There was a time where all Ken could do was whimper, clutching himself with white knuckles, desperate for Daisuke pressing against him, desperate to be touched.

Then, Daisuke settled and, aside from his gasping breaths, grew suddenly quiet.

It took Ken, trembling and panting, gripping his own painful arousal in one hand and Daisuke's hand in the other, too long to realize Daisuke had woken up.

And there was no way Daisuke hadn't noticed he was awake too.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them moved.

What was there to say or do?

He certainly couldn't turn around to tell Daisuke he'd been getting off from his wet dream, and he couldn't imagine Daisuke admitting he'd been having a wet dream about him, even if they'd been sharing a bed for nearly the entire past two weeks.

And as much as he wanted to drag Daisuke's hand under his pajama pants, to ease the ache between his legs, he wouldn't dare.

Ken didn't know what to do, but lying in Daisuke's arms, panting and painfully hard, wasn't a good option. He spent a long few minutes trying to calm his breathing, not too obviously but he couldn't exactly hide it either.

Just when he felt like his heart rate was finally slowing, the bed shifted and he tensed up all over again.

Daisuke pulled away, climbed over him in the unbearable silence, and padded around the futon to reach the door. A crack of faint light broke into the bedroom, but it didn't last long before Daisuke had slipped out into the hallway.

With a shaky breath, Ken twisted round to face the wall and curled up into a ball, trying to banish any remnants of arousal from his body, trying not to think about anything that had happened since he'd woken up an hour ago, long before Daisuke's dream had taken over and distracted him from the conversation he'd been replaying in his head.

Wallace, asleep on the floor not far away, had told him he needed to tell Daisuke what he wanted, to speak the words openly and blatantly so Daisuke would actually understand.

He wanted to.

He'd _tried_ to.

But he'd gotten scared, he'd chickened out.

Wallace seemed to think it was a sure thing—Daisuke's feelings for him. Miyako did too, and Hikari felt the same.

But Takeru's words still echoed through his head.

_What are the odds of finding the love of your life when you're ten years old?_

Ken could hardly consider Daisuke the "love of his life." At the very least, he hadn't lived long enough for that.

But he knew he loved Daisuke. He knew they were partners, that their bond was deeper than any other bond between Chosen Children, that it went beyond the sort of relationship Takeru and the others had with their Jogress partners.

He knew they were connected on a level none of the others had achieved. Despite how terrifying that first Jogress experience had been, the fact that their hearts were _still_ synchronized more often than not was the most reassuring thing he had ever felt. The fact that they still had that connection, that they could—to an extent—sense each other's thoughts and feelings in an uncomfortably real way, made his chest ache.

Most of all, he knew how deeply he needed Daisuke, so much his soul called out for him, begged for that connection when they were apart.

If that wasn't the most intimate thing you could experience in this life or the next, if that wasn't _love_ , Ken didn't want to learn the meaning of the word.

But was that connection enough for Daisuke? Was it too much for him?

The door creaked open, and that pale light lit up the wall in front of him, then disappeared as Daisuke closed the door again.

He slid into the bed a moment later, trying to be gentle and quiet but still jostling Ken's frame. He took a moment to settle back into position, close enough Ken could feel his heat but far enough away they weren't touching.

"Ken?" Daisuke's whisper broke the silence between them. "You still awake?"

Ah.

Confirmation Daisuke had known he was awake before. Not that he'd needed it.

But Ken kept his mouth shut, tried to breathe in and out slowly enough it sounded like he was asleep. He didn't want to talk so quickly after what had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. He was too scared to talk about it, too scared everything would come spilling out and it would be too much, too fast.

Daisuke sighed and scooted just a tiny bit closer so that his arm grazed Ken's shoulder blades through his button-up top.

Ken was sure he knew, sure he could tell he was faking it, but instead of calling him out, instead of touching him and forcing him to turn around and meet his gaze, Daisuke leaned close enough to press his nose to Ken's shoulder and mumble, "Goodnight," before pulling back.

An ache spread through his body, expanding through every limb and rising slowly to the surface of his cold skin.

He didn't want Daisuke to pull away, didn't want to lose that connection the moment he'd regained it after Daisuke had left the room. He needed Daisuke to stay there, to be close, to hold him and reassure him with his warmth and kindness and golden glow.

He needed Daisuke on a visceral level. He needed Daisuke in his heart and his soul, and he was terrified that need would be too much, terrified it would overwhelm him, suffocate him.

But above all else, he needed to know that, no matter what happened between them, everything would be okay.

He needed everything to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I'm going to hell. Please don't hurt me. lmao~~
> 
> For the record, wet dreams can be incredibly vivid or you can not remember them at all....¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me. Only like one sentence from my outline actually made it in.

Ken was already out of bed when Daisuke blinked awake late the next morning. He hadn't slept well, had struggled to fall asleep in the first place, and now the room was bright with daylight.

How was he supposed to sleep knowing that he'd been…? Knowing he'd had that dream while spooning Ken? Knowing he'd been _humping_ Ken? Knowing he'd come from dreaming about Ken, from the friction of holding Ken to his hard-on and rutting against him?

Worst of all, knowing Ken had been awake for it and so mortified he'd pretended to be asleep afterward?

And yet, thinking about that dream, about Ken moaning as he rocked on his lap, about Ken valiantly sucking on his fingers, about Ken's erratic heartbeat and panting when he'd woken up…

Sure, that could've been the sound of panic, of fear, but Ken hadn't seemed afraid.

No, it had sounded like he was into it.

Daisuke was hard just thinking about it all, replaying the vivid dream in his head, wishing he could've recorded the sounds Ken had made—exaggerated versions of the way he already sounded while consuming something he really enjoyed.

A quick glance around his bedroom revealed he was the only one left.

The sun was high, light streaming through the balcony doors. The futon had been folded up and put away. And everyone else, even V-mon, had vacated the room.

The clock did say it was close to noon, but most of the time, even when they slept in absurdly late by his best friend's standards, Ken was still in bed with him, their bodies curled up and intertwined.

He wanted that connection now, wanted Ken in his arms, preferably flushed and panting like last night, stretched over his lap and moaning like in his dream.

Daisuke chewed his lip, his eyes darting around the room, and stretched out on his back.

Hesitation coiled in his stomach, but with a big gulp, he pushed up on his elbows and tugged the T-shirt he'd worn to bed over his head. There wasn't really anything else in reach, and he already needed to wash his laundry again thanks to his little "accident" in the middle of the night. No harm in adding to it.

He tucked the balled-up shirt beside his hip and slid a hand beneath the blankets, under the hem of his pajama pants to grab hold of his hard length.

Relief flooded his body at the pressure, and his eyes fell shut with a gasping breath.

His fingers weren't as soft as Ken's, let alone as long and thin, but they'd get the job done. They always had.

It wasn't difficult to get into it, wasn't difficult to clench his eyes shut and picture Ken pink-cheeked and moaning, wasn't difficult to relive that dream again—this time, with his hand wrapped around himself.

There was no room to consider how awkward and uncomfortable interacting with Ken would be today or tomorrow or however long. No room to think about whether he should apologize or just push it under the rug—or use this as a segue into the conversation they needed to have more than anything.

No, all Daisuke could think about was Ken.

His shimmering eyes, the way his face lit up when he laughed, and how much he wanted to kiss that sweet smile. His pert mouth and pink tongue, and what it would be like to taste him, to devour him, to consume him until they were one.

Daisuke's breath came uneven, and his arm trembled as he worked. With his free hand, he grabbed for the shirt, his fingers clenched around the fabric.

_Thump! Thump!_

His hand skittered to a stop, and he heaved, trying to catch his breath.

"How long are you going to stay in bed? All day?" Jun shouted through the door, irritation lacing her words. "Your guests are out here with no one to entertain them, you know."

Daisuke whipped his head back against the pillow with a groan and cleared his throat before yelling back, trying to keep the proof of what he was doing from his voice: "I just woke up," he snapped. "I'll be out in a couple minutes."

"Ugh, whatever."

He focused on the sound of her retreating footsteps for a moment before returning to the task at hand. He was so close now, and he really didn't appreciate the interruption. He just needed to finish before anyone or anything else got in the way.

Eyes scrunched shut, he wrapped the shirt around himself and replayed the dream again.

He replayed feeding Ken. He replayed Ken sucking on his fingers. He replayed Ken on his lap, rocking against him, moaning from the food and the friction.

Desperate, he wanted to yank Ken closer, to bury his face in the crook of Ken's shoulder and neck and suck and bite at his beautifully pale skin until bruises bloomed under the surface and everyone could see the markings. He wanted everyone to know, the world to see that Ken was his, that they belonged together.

The powerful coiling in his stomach was overwhelming, and he gasped for air.

He was so close he didn't register the knock on his door before it pushed open.

"Daisuke?"

His name in that silky, smooth voice as Ken slipped into the room was more than enough to send him over the edge, and panting and overheated, he came into the shirt.

The door clicked shut.

Oh shit.

But a quick glance over revealed Ken hadn't left.

No, he'd shut the door with him on the inside, and he was staring, eyes wide, his back flat against the door.

Their eyes locked, and Daisuke couldn't do anything but hold his position, one hand very obviously between his legs under the blankets, and pant.

After a moment, Ken broke away, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I just…" He cleared his throat. "I wanted to let you know I'm getting ready to head home. I'll, um, see you tomorrow." He steeled himself for but a second before turning to tear the door open and escape into the living room again.

Daisuke glanced around as he cleaned himself up.

Ken's pajamas weren't folded up neatly like most mornings, and his bag was no longer on the floor by the bed.

Fuck.

He'd never gotten dressed so quickly.

In the living room, V-mon and Terriermon were eating watermelon while Wallace watched the news. Jun and his mom were in the kitchen, going through the pantry—looked like his mom was making a shopping list.

But there was no sign of Ken or Wormmon.

They were gone.

Daisuke dropped onto the couch by his partner, trying not to feel disappointed or upset, trying not to worry that Ken was overthinking everything right now.

*

The trip to Tamachi was longer than it had ever been before, but at least Wormmon kept quiet in his arms.

Once they got back to the apartment, though, Ken knew he'd have to answer a few questions.

Questions he wasn't ready to answer.

Why had he gotten up so early instead of cuddling Daisuke? Why had he slept so poorly? Why had he barely spoken all morning and avoided eye contact with literally everyone? Why had they rushed out of there before Daisuke had even gotten out of bed?

And how do you explain the past twelve hours to a Digimon whose understanding of sex and sexuality is limited to "kissing sounds a lot like Jogress"?

Because if _kissing_ was Jogress, what the hell was humping your best friend in your sleep?

Or walking in on your best friend with his hand down his pants?

Ken's phone buzzed, and he shifted Wormmon out of the way to extract it from his pocket. He shouldn't have been surprised to see an email from Daisuke, but it still sent a jolt of panic and anxiety and arousal down his spine.

He chewed his lip as he opened it.

_Let me know when you get home,_ the email said. _Want to make sure you get there okay._

Warmth bloomed in his chest, and he held the phone close, trying to get a hold of himself.

Under normal circumstances, he always emailed Daisuke when he made it back to his apartment, but after the past twelve hours, it wasn't a surprise Daisuke didn't expect him to.

They'd both known Ken had been awake during last night's little fiasco, Daisuke's wet dream, and then there'd been that moment this morning, not too long ago, when he'd…well, when he'd walked in on what could only be Daisuke masturbating.

He'd panicked.

The train stopped at Tamachi Station, and Wormmon held tight in his arms, Ken slipped out with the crowd, slowly dispersing in the station. They made their way out of the station, descending the stairs, and hooked a right to head home.

Tamachi T.M. Mansion wasn't far from the station, which was something he'd become increasingly grateful for, and it didn't take long for them to reach the apartment.

His mother was in the kitchen, putting together lunch, and she called out when she saw him pass the doorway: "Ken-chan, is that you?"

"Yes, Mama," he said, "I'll be right there. I'm just going to put away my bag."

In his room, he dropped his bag by the closet to sort through later, and Wormmon pushed up to nuzzle his cheek. Ken held him closer, squeezed him probably more than he should, but didn't look at him. Couldn't look at him.

Instead, he pulled out his phone and started to respond to Daisuke's email.

But he had no idea what to say.

Of course, when he started a new email to Hikari, he didn't know what to say then either.

Ken sighed and pocketed his phone again, trying to get a handle on himself, trying to push down the panic until it was nothing, until he could think about things logically again.

"Are we joining your mom for lunch, Ken-chan?" Wormmon asked quietly.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, let's."

After a light lunch, Ken helped his mother with the dishes in the kitchen while she put away the leftover food. He worked in silence, scrubbing and rinsing the dishes before laying them out to dry.

"You could have eaten more, sweetie," his mother said as she slid the last container inside the fridge. "There was more than enough."

He cast a glance over his shoulder and tried to smile. "No, Mama, I wasn't really hungry."

She nodded before grabbing a cloth to wipe down the table, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

He needed the quiet, needed the silence to process the last twelve hours and how incredibly fucked up everything had gotten in such a short amount of time. Honestly, he needed the time to process the last two weeks.

Somehow, everything between him and Daisuke had changed in those two weeks.

He didn't know how, he didn't know when, but everything was different. Perhaps it was Wallace's doing or his own insecurity and jealousy or perhaps something else entirely. Maybe their dynamic had changed because of Daisuke. Whatever the reason, their relationship had become far more complicated.

And Daisuke's dream in the middle of the night—and his own visceral reaction to it—were the symptoms of those changes.

But no matter what, it wasn't particularly fair of him to avoid Daisuke like this.

Sure, he'd been planning to return home today, but he wouldn't have normally gotten out of bed at 6 a.m. this morning. He wouldn't have rushed out of there without a proper goodbye. He wouldn't have made Daisuke worry instead of letting him know he'd made it home safely.

Of course, he'd never walked in on Daisuke touching himself before, let alone had Daisuke hump him in his sleep.

Hell, he'd spent the better part of the last week trying to seduce Daisuke.

Things definitely weren't normal between them right now, and going back to that normal, going back to _before_ , was improbable. It seemed impossible even.

Ken didn't know if that terrified him or invigorated him.

Probably both.

No matter which road he took, no matter which path he embraced, which choice he made, he couldn't think of a single one that preserved his friendship with Daisuke in its entirety. There was no way to go back, no way to fix whatever was breaking, and something deep inside said he was going to break in the process.

A hand touched the small of his back. "Ken-chan?"

He jumped, dropping the bowl he'd been washing back into the soapy water.

"Are you all right, Ken-chan?" His mother peered up at him with big brown eyes, washcloth in hand. "You've been very quiet since you got home."

He turned his attention back to the dishes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. "I've been thinking a lot."

The last thing he wanted to do was worry her, but he had no idea how to broach the subject of his relationship with Daisuke, how to explain without giving everything away—without giving _himself_ away.

"Oh?" she asked, sounding merely curious. "What about?"

Ken's fingers tightened on the bowl in his hands, scrubbing and wiping at it with stilted movements.

How could he explain how trapped and overwhelmed he felt, how scared he was that he was losing his best friend?

Especially at the unhappy realization that it hadn't been Daisuke or Wallace or anyone else who had chained him in these mental and emotional shackles.

No, he'd trapped himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't recommend masturbating while you have guests staying with you or WITH YOUR BEDROOM DOOR UNLOCKED. Daisuke's really horny, okay?


	32. Chapter 32

Wallace had been playing Panda since they'd unlocked him, and quite frankly, he was kicking Yoshimitsu's ass.

Which would've normally brought out Daisuke's competitive streak, but all he could do was scowl at the television while mashing buttons. Instead of his normal focus and determination, he barely registered what was happening on the screen, and the fact that Jun was standing behind the pair, watching his every move, did not help.

"Shut up," he snapped over his shoulder before hunkering down, trying to get his head in the right place.

"What's got your panties in a twist?"

And the last thing he needed was Jun sticking her big nose where it didn't belong and making things worse.

He didn't bother justifying that with an answer.

Jun scoffed and walked back into the kitchen.

Wallace, thankfully, had decided to learn _some_ tact. At least in comparison.

He sent Daisuke a sidelong glance, but quickly refocused on the game. "Ken sure left in a hurry this morning. Everything okay?"

Daisuke glared at the TV.

As connected as they were, there were a lot of things Daisuke didn't understand about Ken's behavior, though he had a pretty damn good idea what had sent him running this morning. But as closed off as Ken sometimes got, everything was definitely _not_ okay.

Honestly, things probably hadn't been okay for a while. It had just taken Daisuke too long to figure it out.

It had taken Daisuke too long to figure a lot of things out.

And as excited as he'd been for Wallace's visit this summer, he hadn't anticipated how much it would affect his relationship with Ken. How much it would get in the way.

If he'd managed to work out his feelings when he didn't have a constant house guest…well, he would've told Ken how he felt at least a week ago. Probably the very first time he'd seen Ken after realizing said feelings.

But Wallace being here changed everything.

Daisuke swallowed and tried to focus on the game, but Wallace had been kicking his ass all afternoon.

"Everything's fine," he said, dodging.

"You know that's not believable for a second, right?"

Oh, he definitely knew.

"Is it my imagination?" Wallace said slowly, not even looking over. "Or have things between you and Ken gotten _more_ intense? Like, I don't think it was quite this… _charged_ when I got here. You noticed that too?"

It was definitely not his imagination.

But that didn't help Daisuke have any idea what to do about it. Recognizing there was a problem didn't give him the solution.

What the hell _was_ he supposed to do?

He and Ken needed to _talk_ , but when would they have the chance? Ken was supposed to come back tomorrow for their Friday night movie night, which they'd planned to have at his home especially because of his birthday—Miyako's idea nearly a month ago—but a group gathering was hardly the best place for them to talk.

Hell, if tomorrow _weren't_ his birthday, he wouldn't expect Ken to show up at all.

Even with it being his birthday, after how quickly Ken had bolted this morning, he wasn't sure Ken would be there.

With a deep sigh, Daisuke let his hands relax around the controller, ignoring the fact that Wallace quickly defeated him, ending the match. "I don't know what to do anymore," he admitted in a quiet voice, barely loud enough over _Tekken 3_ 's music. "I don't know when everything got so complicated, and now that it is, how can I uncomplicate things?"

That did make Wallace pause. "Don't you, though?—know how to uncomplicate things?"

They stared at the screen counting down to their next fight, but when it began, neither made a move.

Daisuke chewed his lip.

Yes, they needed to talk, but more importantly, _Daisuke_ needed to talk.

He needed to come clean and tell Ken everything. He needed to explain how important Ken was to him, how deep their bond ran and how much that connection meant to him. Because that connection, that bond, was everything.

_Ken_ was everything.

And he wanted to be everything to Ken too.

Since the first time they'd experienced Jogress evolution, since that first moment, Daisuke had given him his heart, his very soul. Daisuke belonged with him, to him. Always.

And he desperately wanted Ken to belong to him in return.

"Yeah," he said slowly, "I guess I do."

If he were extremely lucky, maybe Ken would let him kiss him too.

*

Ken had been home for nearly twelve hours, but he'd never emailed Daisuke back to let him know he'd gotten home safely.

Guilt coiled in his stomach, but he'd needed the time to process.

He'd spent the evening watching the news with his parents, a sleepy Wormmon curled up on his lap like a cat. He'd leaned on his mom's small frame and soaked up her love and affection, felt her encouragement and reassurance when he needed it most, and his dad had slung his arm around them on the back of the couch, radiating warmth and love and kindness.

After dinner, he'd repacked his bag for the following evening.

Daisuke had washed their laundry not too long ago, but Ken had lost track of what was clean and what was dirty.

Besides, he had to pack the most important thing: the specialty FC Tokyo jersey the club had released only three weeks ago, the present he'd bought for Daisuke's birthday the moment it was available.

Now that all of that was out of the way, though, and he was lying on his bed, Wormmon asleep near his head, he couldn't sleep.

It shouldn't have surprised him really—how difficult it was to fall asleep without Daisuke sharing his bed—but he curled up under the blankets with Wormmon and his phone, wondering and hoping and missing Daisuke.

All too quickly, it was a few minutes till midnight, and he wanted to be there with Daisuke more than ever.

He'd been too anxious to email Daisuke back, but this was different.

The minute the clock turned midnight, he pulled up Daisuke's number and hesitated only a moment before dialing.

Daisuke answered after only a single ring. "Ken?"

He swallowed. "Hey."

A sigh of relief rustled the other line. "I was worried when I didn't hear from you. I thought maybe…"

"I'm sorry," Ken murmured as the guilt rose up again. "I needed some time."

Daisuke paused. "Y-yeah, okay."

"But I wanted to be the first person to wish you a happy birthday. Especially since I'm not there." He released a shaky sigh into the mouthpiece. "I should be there with you."

Daisuke cleared his throat. "You'll be back for movie night, right?" He didn't sound particularly convinced, though. "That's not too far away."

Ken licked his lips. "Eighteen hours."

"I'm surprised…" He paused. "Can you not sleep?"

A frown tugged at Ken's lips.

He didn't want to admit how hard it was to sleep on his own now, just him and Wormmon. After two weeks with only a couple nights apart, he didn't know how he was supposed to sleep without Daisuke's arms wrapped around him.

But he also knew Daisuke was already aware, quite possibly had the same problem.

Daisuke took a deep breath. "Hey, Ken," he said slowly, quietly, testing the waters, "I feel like I owe you an explanation and, uh, an apology. For last night…"

Then again, he'd have to get used to sleeping without being entwined in Daisuke's embrace again. School would start up again at the end of the month, and they couldn't spend the rest of their lives sharing a bed. At some point, this—whatever _this_ was—had to end. That was abundantly clear.

And in the meantime, he just wanted to enjoy what they had, wanted to enjoy the bits of Daisuke he was allowed to have.

Before it all fell apart.

Chewing his lip, Ken adjusted his position so he was on his back, stretched out on the extra-long mattress, and inhaled carefully. "What are you wearing?"

Daisuke's swallow was audible. "Um, pajamas?" Then, he added, "But just the pants. Why?"

He dragged the fingers of his free hand up to the buttons of his top and pulled them free one by one, until the fabric fell loose to the sides and the cool air ghosted across his bare skin. "And your hands…?" He traced along the dip in the middle of his stomach up to his chest, then paused, fingers drumming at the base of his sternum. "Where are your hands?"

"Right over my heart," Daisuke mumbled, embarrassment seeping into the words. "And, you know, holding the phone."

Ken flattened his trembling hand over his erratic heart. It thumped hard against his palm, like it might pound and pump right out of his chest. "Okay…" Arousal pulsed throughout his body in the same crazy rhythm.

"Ken, are you…? Are _we_ —?"

"How are you not cold without a shirt?" Goosebumps had spread across his skin, though he doubted it had much to do with his exposed chest.

"You're usually the cold one, right?"

Ken sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, and his eyes fell shut. "You could keep me warm. You always do."

"Yeah…"

"How would you hold me?" He wetted his lips, tried not to give in to the urge to touch himself just yet. "If I were there right now, where would you touch me?"

Daisuke's breath quivered. "Everywhere. Nothing could separate us."

A shiver jolted down Ken's spine, and his body ached with want. "Your hands…Daisuke, where would your hands be?"

He was sure he was breathing heavily now, panting into the microphone, but all that mattered was the way Daisuke would wrap around him and hold him flush. He clamped his eyes shut and let the memories of last night envelop him—Daisuke's fingers clamped around his hand, hot breath teasing his neck, his name on Daisuke's lips, and the proof of that powerful arousal digging into his lower back, rocking and jutting his hips for further contact.

He wanted to feel that again, wanted Daisuke to hold him like that again, desperately wanted Daisuke to touch him while doing it. He just wanted Daisuke.

"Uhm, I'd hook my arm under your neck, hold my hand right over your heart…"

Ken had to hold back a moan, though he wasn't sure how successful he was. "And the other?"

"Wrapped around your waist, keeping you close."

"And your hand—where's that?"

Daisuke exhaled slowly. "Wherever you want it to be. As long as I'm touching you."

A quaking whimper flew from Ken's lips.

He knew exactly where he wanted Daisuke to touch him, _how_ he wanted Daisuke to touch him. Even the mere thought of those hot calloused fingers scraping down his abdomen to the hem of his pajama pants set his skin on fire.

"Is that…is that okay?"

When the word, "Yes," fell from Ken's lips, it came out more like a moan than an actual word. "More than okay."

Daisuke let out a strangled breath. "I, um, I need to go, okay?"

A needy whine fell from Ken's lips.

"Sorry, I just…I have to go."

He didn't wait to say goodbye before hanging up.

Ken clenched his eyes shut and dropped the phone onto the bed beside him, wishing he'd had more than Daisuke's voice, wishing the hand clutching his heart was Daisuke's, but relief washed through his body when he slipped his newly free hand under the elastic hem of his pajama bottoms and grabbed hold of himself.

He wished it were Daisuke's hand, wished Daisuke really were wrapped around him, holding him and touching him, but he'd have to make do with his imagination.

And his hand.

He could imagine Daisuke doing the same, touching himself like he had this morning, trying to be quiet so he wouldn't wake Wallace—or better yet, escaping into the bathroom for privacy.

And if he were very lucky, it wouldn't be just his imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp....we have officially made it to Daisuke's birthday lmao


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy [this hilarious depiction of Daisuke's birthday](https://twitter.com/fawnmons/status/1327893937340690436?s=20) by my amazingly talented friend fawn ❤️

By the time Miyako leaned back on his desk chair and Hikari curled up by her feet, her head resting on Miyako's knee, their Digimon laughing and playing together, Ken was beyond panicking. He tried to hide it, refused to let it show, but she knew.

Hikari knew.

She always knew even when no one else did. He hated how well she could see right through him, but it was also exactly why he'd called her this morning when he'd realized what he'd done last night.

Because the moment he'd woken up, half asleep in his loft bed, it had hit him…

The night before last, he'd woken to Daisuke moving in his sleep, he'd let Daisuke wrap around him and nearly gotten off from Daisuke's wet dream—and Daisuke had caught him, sort of.

The following morning, he'd walked in on Daisuke masturbating. And the fact that it was the morning after his wet dream about Ken left some serious questions he was terrified to learn the answer to.

And then last night, he'd called to wish Daisuke a happy birthday, and the moment Daisuke had started to talk about something serious, he'd redirected everything to…well, he couldn't really call it anything but phone sex. He'd almost—he'd wanted to. And he probably would have if Daisuke hadn't hung up.

There was so much tension in the air, so much tension between them it might kill him.

And now he had to go to Daisuke's for their movie night.

Celebrating Daisuke's birthday.

With the rest of their friends.

And Wallace.

And Jun.

Yes, Ken was panicking.

Hikari locked eyes with him. "Ken-kun? How can we help?"

That, he wasn't sure.

He had no idea what he needed, only that the thought of seeing Daisuke today terrified him. Facing Daisuke meant facing everything that had happened over the last two days, and he wasn't ready for that.

He wasn't ready to face everything Daisuke's birthday would bring.

Ken chewed his lip, and his gaze fell to the floor. "I don't know what to wear."

Miyako clapped her hands in excitement. "That shouldn't be too hard to fix!" She jumped to her feet, practically flinging Hikari off her lap in her rush, and tore open Ken's side of the closet.

While she started flipping through his clothes, Hikari joined Ken as she dusted herself off. "How have things been at Daisuke-kun's the last couple days?" she asked in a quiet voice. "How are things with Daisuke-kun?"

Ken frowned, trying to ignore Miyako's growing pile of "options," but glancing at Hikari didn't improve his mood. "We've been…"

How had they been?

Good? Better? Complicated? Tense and intense? Performing a haphazard balancing act between avoiding all meaningful conversation and almost fucking?

He didn't even know anymore.

"We've…" Ken tried again, pausing to wet his lips. "We've been sharing his bed. Ever since Wallace-san arrived." His breath trembled. "Even the night Wallace-san spent with Takeru-san and left us alone, when we didn't have to, we still _shared_."

Her mouth formed a perfect _O_ , but her eyes reflected understanding, not surprise.

How did she already know?

Heat rose to his cheeks, and his voice dropped lower, quieter, desperately trying to deflect any attention. "The other night, Daisuke had a dream…about me."

"A dream?" Hikari frowned, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "What kind of—?"

Ken sent her a pointed look.

Her eyebrows jutted up. " _Oh_."

He didn't want to get into what he'd walked in on yesterday morning or their conversation on the phone last night, didn't want to divulge his own shame, but he didn't know how to explain his fear and nervousness without telling them either.

Instead, he chewed his lip and dropped his gaze, staring down at his own feet to avoid seeing her face. "Things have been tense—overwhelming even—and I feel…"

He felt scared.

Scared of how everything had changed and yet they were exactly as they'd always been. Nervous they wouldn't be able to salvage anything when this whole thing blew up in his face. Worried he would lose his best friend.

But mostly, he felt vulnerable.

As closed off as they were about this _thing_ between them, as much as they refused to talk about it, Ken felt laid bare and exposed. Weak, defenseless, unmasked.

He was entirely at Daisuke's mercy.

And he simultaneously wanted Daisuke to take advantage of his weakness, of the situation, and also be his sweet, merciful self.

Daisuke was all things bright and selfless and magnificently determined, a brilliant ray of sunshine in Ken's dark life. He was trusting and affectionate and the most genuine person Ken had ever met, and Ken loved his simple, optimistic attitude.

But he was so tired of waiting.

And wondering.

And hoping.

And hating himself for hoping.

"I just really need tonight to go well," Ken murmured, refusing to meet Hikari's gaze, to see the reflection of his own weakness in her eyes, to let himself see the pity on her face.

She scooted closer and reached out her hand to clasp his fingers. "Don't worry," she said softly, squeezing his fingers. "Daisuke's going to have the best birthday. We'll make sure tonight goes well for both of you."

The growing ache in his throat made it hard to talk, but he gripped her fingers and mumbled a hoarse "Thank you."

And then there was Miyako, dragging a heap of clothing toward him—more clothing than he realized he owned—a grin spread across her exuberant face. "Okay!" she cried, practically lunging at them. "Let's find the perfect outfit!"

*

"Jeez, Daisuke, calm down, would you?"

"You're shaking…"

"You're going to wear a hole in the rug doing that."

Daisuke didn't know the last time he'd felt so ganged up on and put on the spot.

But that was what happened when you placed Wallace, Takeru, and Jun in the same room. On the same couch. And completely surrounding him, blocking him in.

Jun leaned toward him with a devious grin. "What are you so nervous about, little brother?"

At least his parents weren't adding to the madness.

How could they when they weren't paying any attention? Not that that was any different from normal, though.

And Iori.

Daisuke had never been more thankful for Iori's calm, steady temperament.

Of course, while he may not be contributing to the insanity, he wasn't _helping_ either. So maybe he shouldn't be as thankful for Iori as he was.

"I'm not nervous," Daisuke snapped, crossing his arms and shooting Jun a glare.

She cocked an eyebrow and leaned back in her seat with an air of smug superiority that left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. "Yes, please keep lying to us, Daisuke."

Wallace hummed in agreement. "You've been on edge since you got up, and you don't look like you got much sleep."

At his side, Takeru leaned into Wallace's space with a conspiratorial grin. " _Something_ must have kept you up all night."

"Well, if Ken had been here," Wallace said, catching his gaze with a challenging smile. "But Ken went home in a hurry yesterday. Unless, I don't know, he actually talked to you again last night, answered your email…"

Pink stained Daisuke's cheeks.

He'd wondered if Wallace had heard any of their conversation last night, wondered how embarrassed he should be. Especially if Wallace had put together why he'd escaped to the bathroom after hurriedly hanging up on Ken's sultry voice.

But Daisuke refused to give in to the teasing.

"Oh, that's definitely a yes," Jun said, smirking through the words.

His flush deepened, and the others laughed.

Then, V-mon was jumping up into his lap, grinning and bouncing with energy. "When will Wormmon and Ken get here?" the dragon Digimon asked, flopping against his chest dramatically. "Everything's so much more fun when we're together."

For some reason, that just made Daisuke blush harder.

"I don't know, buddy," he mumbled, ignoring the _looks_. "I'm sure they'll be here soon."

He hadn't heard from Ken since he'd hung up on him last night to take care of his "problem"—a problem that had plagued him ever since that first time he'd pulled Ken into his bed and held him close and…

Things had gotten so _heated_ on the phone, and now he hadn't heard from Ken yet again.

To be fair, Daisuke was normally the one to start up their conversations. But he hadn't had the nerve to open up their latest email chain and ask Ken how he'd slept or what he'd had for breakfast or what he and Wormmon were up to before the movie night. Not after how their conversation last night had ended.

Instead, he'd spent all night, all morning, and all afternoon reaffirming what he'd already decided to do.

After the movie night, after everyone went home tonight, he'd take Ken aside and tell him everything. A true and proper confession. He'd come clean. He'd lay all his cards on the table and wait for Ken's response.

And in the meantime, he just had to hold himself together.

Which was obviously going really well.

V-mon was the first to notice the knock at the door, and he dove off Daisuke's lap before anyone else was able to react. Daisuke quickly followed him to the door, cutting off Jun before she could rise from the couch, a mischievous grin on her red-stained lips, but when he looked through the peephole, Daisuke was a quivering, fidgeting mess.

Ken was on the other side of that door, his pretty face perfectly framed by dark silky hair, his lips twisted into a tentative smile, a full bag delicately hanging over one shoulder, Wormmon held close to his chest.

He was back, and he was spending the night again, and Daisuke would be able to hold him in his arms and feel his heartbeat and fall asleep with him again, and he could talk to him, tell him everything, reveal the only secret he'd ever really kept from Ken, the secret he'd too easily kept from himself.

His hand was shaking when he turned the handle and opened the door.

Ken's smile widened as the door pushed open, though it faltered when Wormmon jumped from his arms to fling himself at V-mon, the two of them falling in a heap on the genkan, their laughter echoing in the entryway.

But Daisuke couldn't take his eyes off Ken.

He was wearing a button-up shirt like normal, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons undone, exposing a lovely patch of his collarbone, contrasting the soft baby blue fabric, and his mid-thigh-length shorts looked so tight he'd have to peel them off.

Fuck.

Daisuke definitely wanted to lay Ken flat on the edge of his bed, peel the damn shorts off those sexy long legs, and trail his mouth over the newly exposed skin.

But that could wait.

That had to wait.

As much as he wanted to lock Ken and himself in his bedroom, he couldn't do anything like that until he'd said his piece, until they'd well and truly _talked_.

"Daisuke?"

He blinked at the voice.

That wasn't Ken.

"Aren't you going to let us in?"

He inhaled sharply and looked behind Ken to the left.

Miyako had her arms crossed, squeezing her boobs together, an irritated look on her face, but beside her, Hikari looked calm and serene and _amused_ , which struck Daisuke as something he shouldn't trust.

But then again, they'd definitely just caught him ogling Ken, so that was probably it.

"Sorry," he mumbled, stepping to the side so they could all come inside the apartment.

Miyako came first, Hawkmon at her heels, and she grinned, mood instantly improving, as she slipped off her shoes. "Happy birthday, Daisuke!" She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before practically dashing down the hallway to join the others.

Hikari quickly switched out her shoes for slippers, then paused, assessing him with a calculating look. "Are you all right, Daisuke-kun?" she asked quietly, and Tailmon surveyed him from her perch on Hikari's shoulder.

He blushed and spluttered, glancing toward Ken, then back, desperate to ease any concern or skepticism. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be? We're having a movie night. And Ken is here and all my friends are here and Otou-san's going to get us takeout and we bought more popsicles this morning and we can—"

She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Daisuke-kun…" She took a slow deep breath, eyes locked with his. " _Breathe_." Then, she squeezed his shoulder, a soft smile touching her features, and padded down the hallway toward the living room.

For a moment, he and Ken stood in silence.

Ken was just barely on the edge of the genkan, slipping closer. "Have you had a good birthday so far?" he asked, his smooth voice barely loud enough to hear over the commotion emanating from the living room.

He crossed over the threshold into the genkan, moving into his space. Daisuke released the handle, letting the door click into place, trapping Ken between him and the hard panel.

Daisuke swallowed and gave a short nod. "Better now that you're here."

The smile that spread across Ken's pretty lips made him weak in the knees, and he tried to contain himself, to push down the affection, the excitement, the wanting, so Ken could exchange his shoes for slippers and they could make it through tonight without all the tension their interactions had devolved into.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking finally. I had this chapter all written like two days ago and then completely scrapped the second scene because it sucked balls.
> 
> Soooo here.
> 
> This one's better. Enjoy a ~~very horny~~ nice nod to chapter four. lol

With everyone piled together on the couch—aside from Hikari and Miyako, who were curled up together on the floor, closer than strictly friends should be, their legs twisted together and entwined, Tailmon and Hawkmon cuddling into them—Ken's throat closed up, tightening and restricting as he struggled to breathe normally.

The other Digimon had run off to play, so he didn't even have Wormmon to hold for comfort. Not that he begrudged his partner this time to enjoy with their friends.

That left him, however, stuck watching some ridiculous movie Daisuke had chosen—something about kung fu experts who can kill with musical instruments and mob bosses who dance with their weapon of choice. At least he wasn't the only person subjected to the insanity, though, but he doubted anyone else was struggling quite as hard to follow the story.

It wouldn't have been so difficult if Daisuke weren't sitting far too close, their hips smashed together, his arm draped over the back of the couch, Ken's shoulder tucked into his side.

Ken was trying not to give in to the desire to sink into Daisuke's side, to melt into his warm touch and let Daisuke fully wrap around him. He wanted to be held, to be cradled in Daisuke's arms despite where they were and who they were surrounded by, but that would only make everything harder.

Not that that stopped Daisuke's fingers from toying with the collar of his button-up, like he was considering touching more.

God, Ken wanted him to touch more.

But Daisuke wouldn't stop shaking his knee, the nervous energy only amplifying Ken's own anxieties about the evening, and he struggled to separate himself from the need for Daisuke to touch him, from the need for Daisuke to move farther away.

He tried to focus on the movie instead.

They were nearing the end, and on the screen, Sing—Daisuke had had to tell him the character's name since Ken hadn't actually caught it—started to break through his cocoon of bandages just as the Axe Gang arrived.

Ken stifled a gasp when rough fingers made contact with the apex of his neck and shoulder, grazing his collarbone. His eyes fell shut, and support weakened, he slipped closer to Daisuke.

Still jostling one knee like his life depended on it, Daisuke wrapped his arm around Ken's shoulders and pulled him into his side, holding him tight, and all Ken could do was relax into the embrace. Anxiety welled in his stomach, but he leaned into Daisuke, placed a hand on his thigh to steady the shaking, and let Daisuke snuggle him.

He was absolutely terrified, no matter Hikari's assurances, but he had to enjoy this closeness with Daisuke while he still could.

By the end the epic fight ended, the slums completely destroyed in the process, Ken was almost entirely wrapped in Daisuke's embrace, his cheek resting against Daisuke's chest, the nervous tremble of Daisuke's heart thumping in his ear. Despite how obviously jittery Daisuke was, that rhythm was enough to soothe Ken.

"Hey…" Daisuke murmured in his ear as the credits began to roll. "Wanna help me get out some popsicles?"

They'd eaten takeout at the start of the movie, but of course, Daisuke was always hungry, completely insatiable.

Ken didn't want to pull away, to be separated from the safety of Daisuke's heartbeat, but Daisuke was already shifting to rise from the couch. Ken retracted, let Daisuke take his hand and drag him up as well, and when Daisuke didn't release his hand as he led him toward the kitchen, well, Ken wasn't going to complain.

In fact, Daisuke held his hand for as long as he was able.

He only let go when he had to grab some of the individually wrapped GariGari-kun popsicles, and Ken helped him pass them out to anyone who wanted one, only to quickly rejoin Daisuke in the kitchen as he was unwrapping a choco popsicle.

Daisuke grinned at him around the ice candy and popped it out of his mouth to say, "Which one do you want?"

Hesitantly, Ken accepted a pear-flavored popsicle and tore open the wrapper with delicate fingers.

The last time they'd had popsicles, Daisuke had made a sticky mess all over the dining table. Hopefully, he wouldn't be so sloppy this time, especially since they didn't move from their semi-private position in the kitchen.

Ken took a tentative lick at his pear popsicle, his eyes wandering over the peninsula to watch everyone in the living room.

Miyako and Hikari were still on the floor, though sitting up now, and most everyone else remained in their seats. The Motomiyas had a big area rug in the living room, but god knows Daisuke had spilled on it plenty, so he didn't seem concerned about a mess.

The Digimon, though, were congregating at the dining table, munching on their popsicles, and Ken smiled watching Wormmon and V-mon lean into each other and share their desserts.

A small part of him was jealous of how easily the Digimon fell into each other and openly expressed their affection. They never hesitated, never stressed or worried what would become of their partnership because that partnership was never in doubt. Wormmon was so sure of their connection.

Yet, all Ken could do was doubt.

He sucked on his popsicle, swallowing down the pear flavor with a pleased sigh, and tried not to think about what would happen after everyone went home tonight and he was back in Daisuke's bed. He was so tired of wondering and worrying, tired of waiting for everything to fall apart.

Ken snuck a glance in Daisuke's direction, only to stop cold, his popsicle halfway in his mouth, tongue protruding to gather juice from the underside.

Daisuke, his popsicle dangling from between his glistening lips, was staring.

Something between anxiety and arousal bloomed in Ken's chest, and he withdrew the popsicle slowly and licked his lips, cheeks dusting pink at the blatant attention. Especially when Daisuke's eyes followed his movements with powerful precision.

Face hot, Ken couldn't move. His eyes locked on to Daisuke, but Daisuke didn't seem to notice.

"Dai…?" His voice was shaking. "Daisuke?"

That worked.

Daisuke blinked a couple times before managing to drag his gaze up to Ken's eyes, and he popped out his ice candy to flash Ken a tentative grin. "Y-yeah?"

Lips twisting into a small smile, Ken held his gaze even as his tongue darted out to lap up the pear-flavored droplets gathering and sliding down to the bottom before they covered his fingers in sticky, syrupy mess. Daisuke broke eye contact to follow the movements, and Ken swept up to swirl his tongue around the tip before dipping down to take the whole popsicle into his mouth with a satisfied sigh.

Daisuke's mouth dropped open, and a strange garbled sound rumbled in his throat. His fudgy brown popsicle was melting and dripping onto his hand, but he didn't seem to notice.

Ken dragged the popsicle out, curving closer, and bit his lip. He leaned in, looking up at Daisuke through his lashes, catching his gaze again. "Can I taste yours?"

The sound that came from Daisuke's mouth was unintelligible.

But that didn't stop Ken from stepping farther into his space and tracing the bottom rim with his tongue, catching the dripping chocolate before more fell to Daisuke's clenched fingers. He looked up again to meet those warm chocolate eyes, big and dilated and frenzied, as he swept up the side and swallowed the popsicle in one graceful swoop. Ken's eyes fell shut, and he slid up and down the popsicle slowly, sucking hard and humming at the rich chocolate flavor.

A whimper fell from Daisuke's lips.

Only then did he release the popsicle, breathing fast, heart pounding hard in his chest, and when he opened his eyes, Daisuke's gaze was still trained on his mouth, now wet with the rich melted chocolate.

He licked the remnants off slowly, sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to clean it before venturing to speak. "Do you want to try mine?" Ken slurped off the parts dripping down the sides before offering the pear-flavored popsicle to his best friend with a challenging smile.

Daisuke stared at him with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing, unable to speak.

"Hey, lovebirds! Are you going to join us any time soon?"

They both turned toward the living room again, where Jun was leaning over the back of the couch, a devious smirk spread across her red-painted lips, and a deep flush bloomed on Ken's cheeks and shame inside his chest.

*

A second movie was on now, _Tokyo Gore Police_ , that came out earlier in the year—something Ken and Hikari and Iori had only agreed to if they watched something "less gross" afterward. Daisuke didn't particularly care either way. They'd voted on the movies anyway, so it wasn't like this was something he _needed_ to watch.

And Daisuke was too preoccupied with not focusing on Ken or looking at Ken or even thinking about Ken to pay much attention to the movie.

"Are we doing another movie night next Friday?" Wallace asked from a couple seats over, curiosity etched on his face in the low lights.

Besides, everyone seemed perfectly fine with talking over the movie right now anyway.

"Actually…" Hikari sat up and turned her back on the television, a gentle smile on her face. "Miyako and I had an idea the other day, and we wanted to see what everyone thinks of it."

Daisuke frowned.

Miyako twisted around too, nearly knocking Hikari over in the process. "Yeah! It's just that next weekend is Wallace's last weekend here, so we want to do something extra special."

"Give him a taste of something he can't get in America," Hikari added, nodding with her Jogress partner.

Shifting in his seat, Daisuke glanced between the two of them, suspicious. "Like what?"

"We could go on a ghost tour," Miyako suggested, her eyes darting around the room. "There are quite a few here in Tokyo."

"You guys could go out to Mount Fuji," Jun said with a shrug, then paused. "Or would that be weird?"

The only time Daisuke had actually been to the old campsite where Takeru and Taichi and the others had first gone to the Digital World was when they returned after defeating BelialVamdemon six years ago this upcoming New Year's Eve. Naturally, arriving at the Mount Fuji campsite, where all their families were gathered in support, had been a relief—and one of the few moments it had felt like his parents and Jun were a hundred percent behind him.

"Or there's the bullet train," Takeru added.

It'd give them a good view of Mount Fuji too, and you know, it's a superfast train. They don't have those in America—it would've come in handy while trying to reach Colorado all those years ago.

But then Hikari slapped her hand on the carpet with a big smile that sent a wary shiver down Daisuke's spine. "I know! Let's go to an onsen!"

Miyako grabbed her bare shoulder and squeezed the pink flesh, her eyes lighting up. "We could stay the weekend at a ryokan," she said, then grinned and flushed when Hikari beamed at her.

At the end of the couch near the balcony door, Iori leaned forward in his seat. "Are you sure that's the best place to take Wallace-san?"

"What does that mean?" Wallace cried, belligerent.

Takeru snorted. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to be near you naked."

Daisuke swallowed and collapsed back, his eyes darting toward his left, where Ken readjusted his position like he was permanently uncomfortable, like he was trapped on the couch, in the living room, and desperately wanted out.

Was the idea of them getting naked together that upsetting? Or the idea of getting naked with any of his friends?

Ken had gone to an onsen with his family a few times during the course of their friendship, but unlike most Ichijouji family activities, Ken had never invited Daisuke to join them. He'd wondered why several times over the years but never voiced the question, never wanted to put Ken on the spot.

Now, they might not have a choice.

To be fair, Daisuke found the idea pretty uncomfortable too. They'd be in the water, sure, wouldn't actually be able to see anything, but the very idea that he'd sit next to Ken and _know_ they were both naked sent his heart racing.

It wasn't _bad_ uncomfortable, wasn't something he didn't want to experience, but he wasn't sure he wanted to experience it with Wallace and Takeru and Iori piled in the baths too.

He wanted Ken all to himself.

Not that that was any different from normal.

Like right now.

More than anything, he wanted to close the strange distance between them and pull Ken into his arms like during the first movie, to wrap around him and smell the sweet scent of his shampoo, to tuck Ken's head under his chin so Ken could press his ear to his chest and feel the steady thump of his heart.

Tonight, he was going to tell Ken everything. He was going to lay his feelings, his affection, his love on the table and hope Ken could reciprocate.

He was going to remind Ken that, since their hearts had first aligned, since their first Jogress evolution, since he'd first understood Ken's heart when he felt the Digimental of Miracles and held Ken's Crest of Kindness in his hands, Ken owned him.

Ken was his best friend, his partner, his soulmate, the keeper of his very heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movies they watch are [_Kung Fu Hustle_](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0373074/), a movie by Chinese filmmaker, actor, and martial artist (among other things) [Stephen Chow](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephen_Chow) that I high recommend, and [_Tokyo Gore Police_](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1183732/), a Japanese film released in January 2008 that I have never seen.
> 
> [GariGari-kun popsicles](https://akagiice.jp/gari/zukan/) are like the iconic Japanese popsicles...and I had a bitch of a time trying to decide how to format that name because sometimes there are hyphens and sometimes there are spaces and sometimes it's just squished together as one word and there isn't even a U.S. Wikipedia article on them because the world hates me and anal need to be grammatically accurate.
> 
> Also, if you've seen the translations of the _Kizuna 02_ audio drama, you know Ken has a HUGE HARD-ON FOR ONSENS and, at age 19, wants the group to go hang out at an onsen for their summer vacay ~~because he's super gay and just wants to hang out naked with his male friends~~. (You can read a translation [here](https://withthewill.net/threads/translation-of-digimon-adventure-last-evolution-kizuna-audio-drama-where-should-we-go.24615/) or [here](https://digi-lab.blog/digimon-adventure-last-evolution-kizuna-drama-cd-where-should-we-go/) if you haven't yet.)
> 
> Hoping to have the next chapter out in a couple days, though if it's on the long side, it'll take a bit longer.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to any Americans reading this <3


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I can't believe it's been over a month and a half since I updated. I hope everyone had a good holiday season <3

Before the movie even ended, Hikari disappeared into the kitchen, fiddling with plates and chopsticks and something in the fridge. She was obviously trying to be quiet, but she wasn't very successful. Daisuke at least didn't seem to notice, so that was probably as successful as she needed to be.

Ken kept glancing over out of curiosity—and perhaps also to focus on something other than Daisuke and the exhilarating tension between them.

When the credits started to roll down the screen, Miyako rose from the floor too and slinked into the kitchen to join her, and only a couple minutes later, they came out again, each carrying a few plates to pass out to everyone present.

Hikari stopped in front of Daisuke and leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek and hand him a plate. "Happy birthday, Daisuke-kun," she said as she pulled back, a big grin spreading across her face.

Daisuke stared at the plate of cake and chopsticks she'd handed him. "What? When did you get this?"

"Iori-kun brought it," she said, nodding toward the youngest member of their party. "We all pitched in, but we figured Iori-kun would have the best luck sneaking it in."

Miyako handed Ken a plate.

"Oh," Daisuke said, confusion furrowing his brow and a soft blush coloring his cheeks. "Thanks."

"You didn't think we'd let you get away with no celebrations, did you?" Hikari said, a gentle smile spreading across her cheeks.

Daisuke only shrugged.

Ken studied his plate, where a slice of white Victorian sponge sat, and he slipped the chopsticks into his hand and glanced at Daisuke to make sure he was already eating before venturing to take a bite.

"This is really good," Wallace said from his seat by Takeru. "How much is there?" He shot a glance over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

Takeru laughed. "Why, do you wanna bring some back with us?"

Ken froze.

"Huh?" Daisuke said, pausing in the middle of taking a bite. "You're not—?"

Wallace glanced between them, a smile spreading across his face. "Takeru invited me to stay the night with him again, and I thought it sounded fun." His smile widened, showing off his teeth. "Are you going to miss me?"

Ken swallowed, suddenly nervous.

If Wallace left, he'd be here alone with Daisuke. It was exactly what he wanted, what he'd _been_ wanting, but Wallace's smile left him feeling uncomfortably anxious. Wallace's smile spelled trouble.

But his absence would also be a blessing. Maybe tonight would actually go well.

Ken pushed up and stalked from the room.

He needed a moment, somewhere to breathe and recenter himself. He slipped into the kitchen and set his plate, cake half eaten, on the counter.

Wallace was spending the night with Takeru, which meant he and Daisuke would be here alone, sharing the bed like normal. It was exactly what Ken wanted—the space, the privacy, the _opportunity_.

He needed a glass of water.

Ken filled a cup and sipped it slowly, his back pressed against the fridge, trying to use the cold emanating from within to calm himself.

Wallace was leaving them alone, and then, next weekend, they were all going to an onsen. They'd show Wallace how to enjoy public baths, and Ken would have to pretend there was nothing distracting or wrong or overwhelming about sitting in the bath next to Daisuke.

He took another long drink, letting his eyes fall shut, and tried his best to steady his breathing, to keep himself from panicking in the kitchen during Daisuke's birthday party.

"You okay?"

Ken's eyes flashed open, widening in surprise.

Wallace grinned at him as he slid his empty plate onto the counter next to Ken's. "You look a little out of it."

"I'm fine, thank you."

A blond eyebrow cocked up in disbelief.

"Why?" Ken managed to ask. "Why are you going to stay the night with Takeru-san? Tonight of all nights…"

Wallace sent him a little smirk. "That's what you want, isn't it? To be alone with Daisuke?"

It was. Of course it was.

But Ken didn't like that Wallace could read that so well.

"So…" Wallace stepped closer, his blue eyes sparkling. "What are _you_ giving Daisuke for his birthday? Because I'm not sure there's much that could top _my_ present…"

Ken wetted his lips, nausea welling in his stomach. "Well, I—"

"Hmmm, what in the world could you give him while the two of you are alone tonight?" His smirk was unmistakable now. "In the same bed…"

He flushed, eyes wide, and dropped his gaze.

"Just something to think about," Wallace added as he slipped out of the kitchen.

Alone again, Ken released a soft sigh and slumped against the fridge, clutching his cup of water tight to his chest, grateful for the space to breathe again—

" _What's this?_ "

Until Daisuke's voice caught his attention, of course.

Ken glanced into the living room through the opening to see Wallace pushing a gift bag into Daisuke's lap—Daisuke who was in the middle of shoveling a big bite of cake into his mouth.

"It's a birthday present, idiot," Wallace chided, shaking his head sagely. "Open it!"

Brow contorted in confusion, Daisuke swallowed down his bite and set aside his plate, half the slice of cake gone, before tugging the bag open wide and fiddling with the tissue paper. "Okay, but what _is_ it?"

"Open it and find out…"

Daisuke frowned and pulled out some of the tissue paper, then shoved his hand inside to pull out a box. And froze.

Ken's heart stopped, his knuckles white from clutching the edge of the counter.

Suddenly, everyone was talking over each other, shouting and laughing and shrieking, and Ken blinked it all away, deaf to the words and the jeers and the excitement because Daisuke, his face now a brilliant crimson, mouth gaping in shock, was holding a box of condoms. Daisuke's face only reddened further as he pulled out a second box and then a little bottle and a rectangular box that Ken couldn't recognize.

By the time Daisuke set aside the empty bag, his face redder than ever before, Ken's vision was starting to blur.

Ken was suddenly grateful he hadn't been in the room, sitting on that couch right next to Daisuke as he opened the "gift." He was flushed and uncomfortable just thinking about it—and even more uncomfortable when Wallace's words flashed through his head again.

 _What in the world could you give him while the two of you are alone tonight? In the same bed_ …

Ken had to turn away from the view of the living room and fan himself, trying not to think about him and Daisuke alone in the bedroom tonight, trying not to think about what they could do with those…

His attempts were unsuccessful.

*

Daisuke couldn't sit still, couldn't stop fidgeting.

Everyone had returned to their seats, including Ken, who looked just as mortified as Daisuke felt—probably more so, considering how stiff he was—and they'd chosen to watch _Spirited Away_. It was a good movie, something Daisuke typically enjoyed, but the tension in the air was killing him.

Although, the tension within himself was killing him too.

Wallace had…

Fuck, Wallace had given him a box of condoms—no, _two_ —in front of _everyone_ , and he was just supposed to continue with their movie night like everything was _normal_? How the hell was he supposed to do that?

Plus, Wallace was staying the night with Takeru again. Tonight of all nights? And he hadn't bothered to _tell_ him until announcing it to the entire group.

It was practically a challenge for Daisuke to make a move.

Fucking Ken wasn't exactly the move Daisuke wanted to make tonight, though. He already had a whole plan, after all, vague as it may be, and he had no intention of deviating from that.

The privacy, for sure, was welcome. It meant he'd be able to talk to Ken without worrying about getting interrupted, without wondering if Wallace would walk in or having to _tell_ Wallace to stay out of the way so he could confess, but now there was _this_ hanging in the air between them.

Now there were _condoms_ hanging in the air between them.

As the movie drew to a close, Miyako stretched her arms from her position on the floor with a big yawn, and she wasn't the only one getting tired. Even Daisuke stifled a yawn by the time the credits started rolling, emotionally exhausted from Wallace and Jun and the movie night in general.

It wasn't super late, but Daisuke had gotten used to going to sleep earlier because of Ken.

"You, um, tired?" Daisuke asked when the door closed for the last time and the only one left in the apartment with the two of them was Jun, eating another slice of cake while talking to one of her girlfriends on the phone. His parents had gone to bed ages ago.

Ken shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Daisuke's eyes. "Yeah, we can…go to bed if you want."

His breath hitched. "Right, um…"

God, Ken obviously hadn't meant it that way.

Daisuke wetted his lips, uncertain. They could get ready for bed, sure, but they were finally alone and he couldn't back out now. It was time to tell Ken _everything_.

"Do you…?" He cleared his throat. "We should get ready for bed, yeah? Do you wanna bathe beforehand? I will…"

Ken nodded. "Do you mind if I go first?"

"Of course not. Go ahead."

He _did_ , but Ken always bathed first when he stayed over.

It wasn't a set thing, not something Ken asked for, but Daisuke always insisted, always wanted Ken to be happy and relaxed and comfortable. Tonight, though, Daisuke would've preferred to go first, to have more time to think things through and plan out exactly how to handle his confession now that he had a little extra privacy.

Daisuke cleaned up while Ken was in the bathroom, putting away leftover snacks and the cake and wiping down the kitchen counters around Jun.

He tried to decide what to do with the so-called _present_ from Wallace, but he was at a complete loss. He shoved it inside his desk drawer without looking at the contents again, too anxious to think about what he could do with those, too distracted by Wallace's parting words: _Put those to good use, will you?_

"Are you ready to jump in?"

Daisuke spun toward the open doorway, eyes wide and panicked, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be. "I, um…"

Ken padded into the room with nothing more than the towel slung around his waist and the little towel he was running through his lovely hair. His body glistened with water residue, making him shimmer and sparkle and look absolutely beautiful.

"The water's still warm," he added, turning toward his overnight bag.

It took a moment for Daisuke to form words, and all that stuttered out was, "Yeah, I'll go. Do that. I'll do that," before he bolted out of his bedroom and dove for the safety of the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the last part of Daisuke's birthday FINALLY!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome

Daisuke spent too long in the bath, trying to plan things out, trying not to let Wallace's stupid little gift get to him, trying not to freak out.

The last time he and Ken had shared a bed, he'd woken in the middle of the night to the realization that he'd been humping Ken during his wet dream—and if he weren't mistaken, Ken had _liked_ it. Their conversation the following night—last night—was a pretty good indication of that considering where Ken had taken the conversation the minute Daisuke had tried to apologize.

Ken had…Ken had _moaned_.

And then, tonight—Ken had spent most of the night switching between being really touchy-feely and being strangely distant and awkward. What the hell was he supposed to make of that?

With Wallace gone for the night, would Ken want to share the bed? Or would he decide to use the futon after everything that had happened over the last forty-eight hours? Would sharing be the smart move?

He wouldn't find out till he actually returned to the bedroom.

The bedroom light was off when he managed to return, and the shaft of light from the living room didn't reveal anything on the floor—Ken was sleeping in the bed then, and Wormmon and V-mon must've been with him.

Daisuke padded quietly into the room, still drying himself off, and pulled on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt in the dark. He ran the towel through his hair one last time before dropping it in his laundry and sliding into the bed, careful not to touch Ken. The last thing he needed was a repeat of the other night.

But Ken being asleep meant his confession would have to wait until tomorrow.

A low sigh fell from his lips as he gazed up at the ceiling, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, disappointment blooming in his chest.

Postponing, though, meant he'd have more time to figure out the best way to say it. And that Ken wouldn't be bolting out of here in the middle of the night if it didn't go well. That…that was important.

It didn't stop him from being disappointed, though.

"Daisuke?"

He inhaled sharply. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I was waiting for you," Ken whispered, his voice extra quiet with him facing the wall. "You took a while."

Daisuke smiled ruefully, even if Ken couldn't see it. "I got distracted thinking. Sorry, I didn't realize how long I'd been."

Ken chuckled. "Didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

Scowling, Daisuke elbowed him in the back, and Ken twisted around, laughing, his eyes sparkling in the hint of moonlight filtering through the part in the curtains. He was so beautiful.

"You were…you were waiting for me?" He dropped a hand on Ken's shoulder, holding his attention. "Something you want to talk about?"

Ken chewed his lip but, after a moment, nodded.

"There's, um, something I want to talk to you about too, okay? Something important." Daisuke hesitated. "So, uh, do you wanna go first?"

"No…" Ken breathed, unable to meet his eyes, even in the dark room, as close as they were. "Do you?"

Daisuke let out a soft chuckle. "Not really, no. But one of us has to, right?"

In the dark room, Ken's eyes fell shut, and Daisuke spent a long moment just staring at his barely illuminated face, wanting to reach out and touch it but hesitating.

"Daisuke?"

He swallowed, suddenly more nervous than he'd felt all evening. "Yeah?"

Ken's pretty eyes fluttered open, big and dark in the night, and he stared through his lashes, lip caught between his teeth. "Will you hold me?"

Daisuke didn't hesitate for a second before sliding closer, but Ken held up his hand.

"Wait…"

And Daisuke could only stare, agape, as Ken pushed up into a sitting position and slowly undid his pajama top, revealing more and more porcelain skin with each button opened. He shouldered the shirt off, letting it slide slowly down his arms until he could tug himself free, and he leaned down, his hand settling on Daisuke's chest.

"I want to feel you," he mumbled, cheeks flushing. "Will you…?"

Daisuke pushed up, tearing off his T-shirt before he was even off the mattress, and dropped down again, ready and open and more than willing. "I'm here."

Ken curled into his embrace, his back flat against Daisuke's chest so he could feel Ken's heartbeat reverberate through them both, pulsing and pounding fervently. Their two rhythms quickly synchronized as Daisuke buried his face in the back of Ken's neck and held him close, his palm flat over Ken's chest, soaking up the heady throb of his heart.

But no matter how much he wanted to hold Ken like this, Daisuke only grew more nervous with their bodies flush together and Ken relaxing in his arms.

This was the same position as the other night, the way he'd held Ken while rutting into him during that insane dream, that _amazing_ dream. He couldn't not think about it now, about Ken squirming in his arms and gasping like he enjoyed it.

Fuck, had Ken enjoyed it?

Ken dropped his hand over Daisuke's, keeping his palm there over his heart, and sighed. "Thanks," he murmured, his tone soft and light and intoxicating. "This feels good."

Daisuke swallowed.

He needed to do it now, to confess everything and ask Ken if they could still do this or if they'd have to stop. He needed to know if there was more to this than what was inside his own head, if Ken felt it too.

Ken sighed and threaded their fingers together over his heart. "Daisuke?"

"Huh?"

"Tell me about your dream the other night." He hesitated. "Please?"

Daisuke's breath hitched. "My dream?"

His dream about Ken? His _sex_ dream about Ken? He couldn't…he couldn't be serious.

"The last night I was here," Ken murmured. "You dreamed about me. I…want to know what happened. What did I do?"

Throat dry, Daisuke tried not to think about it, tried not to focus on the faint memories of Ken straddling his lap and moaning around a bite of cheesecake. He tried not to remember waking up with Ken in his arms, panting, his heartbeat pounding hard through his back—much like right now.

"I think…" Daisuke paused. "I think it's better if I don't say."

Ken breathed slowly, quiet and calm and more relaxed than Daisuke could imagine being. "Then what did _you_ do to me?" he whispered. "I need to know."

His heart stuttered.

"Or you could show me?"

Daisuke tried to breathe, but it came out as a gasp and his voice trembled when he managed to speak. "Is th-this what you wanted to talk about? My dream?"

"Part of it."

"What if—?"

"Daisuke," Ken said, his voice suddenly loud and sharp with purpose, and he held Daisuke's hand tight and slid it down, down, down to the waistband of his pajamas. "Show me. _Please_."

A low whine shook his body. "That's not—we didn't—you were on my lap…"

All too quickly, Ken twisted round, throwing the covers off them, and flattened Daisuke to the mattress. "Like this?" he asked, voice low as he slid one of his deliciously long legs over Daisuke's hip and settled on top of his groin. "Is this right?"

Daisuke whimpered, unable to answer, uncertain what to do with his hands.

Ken leaned forward, hovering over him, the position pressing his ass down against Daisuke's burgeoning hard-on. "What next?" he murmured, holding his gaze steadily as he trailed a finger over Daisuke's heart. "What were we doing?"

"We were, um"—Daisuke licked his lips and swallowed, trying to wet his dry mouth—"eating. Uh, cheesecake." Ken cocked an eyebrow, and Daisuke's face flushed in embarrassment. "I was feeding you cheesecake," he added in the smallest of voices.

Obviously, there was no cheesecake here, but Ken's long finger drew circles over his heart and he had a curious look on his face. "And then?"

Daisuke glanced away, his blush darkening at the faint memory. "We—well, _you_ , um…you kind of…" His voice dipped down to barely a whisper, and he dropped his hands on Ken's pajama-covered thighs. " _You rode me_."

Ken's hand stuttered to a stop, and his tiny gasp seemed loud in the silence of the dark bedroom.

Daisuke swallowed uncertainly.

But what could he say or do now? He just had to wait.

" _Oh_ ," Ken murmured after a moment.

Then, his finger started moving again, trailing over Daisuke's heart—and then _down_.

Daisuke's breath caught. "Uh, K-Ken, what are you—?"

"Shhh…" Ken pressed a finger to his lips, quieting him, and then curled his hands around the elastic waist of Daisuke's boxers, using that to balance as he rolled his hips, slowly, purposefully, meticulously.

Fingers digging into Ken's thighs, Daisuke tried not to moan, but when Ken's name fell from his lips, it sounded like one anyway. "Wha-what are you doing?" His eyes fluttered open slowly, the act requiring more effort than he'd like to admit, and stared up at Ken's silhouette, his pretty features barely discernible in the darkness.

Ken hummed pleasantly, rocking against Daisuke's groin, rubbing himself fully against Daisuke's aching erection. "What does it look like?" he sighed, tilting his head back, dark strands falling over his closed eyes. "I'm giving you what you want…or is this not enough?"

A quiet whimper fell from Daisuke's lip.

His next movement was sharper, driving harder against Daisuke's arousal, and Ken's mouth parted and a long moan flew from his perfect lips. He took a moment to gather himself, though he didn't slow his rhythm in the slightest, and managed to pant out, "Daisuke…do you want to come inside me? Or maybe on me?"

Daisuke almost came from that question alone. "What…?" He was long past being able to form coherent thoughts, and he gripped Ken's thighs roughly, using him as leverage as he rutted up against Ken's ass.

Something between a moan and a sigh echoed throughout the room, and Ken rocked into him, harder and faster, his breath coming in gasps.

"Ken…" he panted, holding him tight. "What are you—? What are _we_ …what are _we_ doing?"

"Daisuke," Ken whined, and he curved over, his hair falling in Daisuke's face, close enough they could kiss but Ken didn't bridge the gap. "Tonight, you can do whatever you want with me." He held Daisuke's eyes, the seriousness reflected in his beautiful blue-violet orbs. "And I mean _anything_."

The sound that came out of Daisuke's mouth was an unintelligible gurgle.

Ken pressed his palm over Daisuke's heart. "We can do _this_ or…" He licked his lips, eyes darting down to Daisuke's mouth, but his hands distracted, tugging at the boxers. "Or we can take these off and do something a little more… _more_."

Mouth dry, Daisuke tried to catch his breath, tried to _think_ , which was practically impossible with Ken on top of him and saying that.

"What's the verdict, Daisuke?" Ken rocked into him, their faces so close, and Daisuke's hips jutted up too, their bodies working together in unison, just like their heartbeats. "Are you going to fuck me? Or is having me like this enough for you?"

Daisuke couldn't think past the fact that, even with Ken on top of him, pleasuring him like in his dream, they still hadn't managed to _kiss_.

And Daisuke needed to kiss Ken.

He needed to kiss Ken and never stop kissing Ken. He needed to hold him and hug him and run his fingers through his hair and tell him how much he loved him—and he needed to hear Ken say that in return.

Without that, none of this mattered.

Mustering his strength, Daisuke pushed up onto his elbows, his hips faltering and stopping in his determination to access Ken's mouth. He reached for him, and Ken leaned into the touch, pressing their foreheads together, panting in his face—but the moment Daisuke pushed forward that little bit more to capture his mouth in a kiss, Ken pulled back and renewed his rhythm with enthusiasm.

Daisuke collapsed back to the mattress, throbbing at Ken's every thrust, and wrapped his arms around his pillow to stifle his groans.

Fuck.

He was close now, too close, and he still hadn't—

No, _Ken_ hadn't.

Ken hadn't kissed him. Had outright refused to kiss him.

Why wouldn't Ken kiss him?

Daisuke pushed the pillow away, panting as he grabbed for Ken's thighs again to steady him. "Ken, _Ken_."

It didn't manage to slow him down, though, and Ken only threw his head back and moaned, "Daisuke, I want you to fuck me…"

His heart stuttered, but he couldn't get distracted.

Daisuke maneuvered up into a sitting position, leaning back on one arm, and reached out for Ken with the other, cupping his cheek. "Ken," he said softly, his voice low but firm.

Ken shook and quivered as he stopped, staring back at him with bleary eyes.

Even in the safety of nightfall, Daisuke couldn't meet his eyes as he said, "This doesn't…this doesn't mean anything, does it?"

Ken stiffened, still breathless. "No." But his voice was small when he spoke. "Why would it?"

Daisuke's hand dropped away, and he fell back, halfway on the pillow.

His chest ached like there was a hole in his heart, like he was broken, incomplete. He knew without lifting a hand to check Ken's pulse that their heartbeats weren't in sync anymore. _They_ weren't in sync anymore.

He swallowed down the mounting nausea. "Ken," he said slowly, "you don't have to do this. Let's just go to sleep, okay?"

Ken hesitated a moment before climbing off his lap and curling up on the bed beside him, his face practically pressed into the wall. "Probably for the best," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Ken…" Daisuke curled onto his side too, facing the wide expanse of his bedroom.

It wasn't anything compared to the wide expanse, the huge gap between him and Ken now. There was no unity here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm sorry


	37. Chapter 37

Ken couldn't sleep.

He kept replaying it over and over in his head, those short glorious moments of being able to touch Daisuke and having Daisuke touch him in return, of hearing Daisuke so overwhelmed and close to orgasm, moaning his name—and of course, Daisuke's words at the end.

_This doesn't mean anything_ …

As if it could possibly mean anything less than _everything_ to Ken. As if _Daisuke_ meant less than everything to him.

Ken didn't sleep.

His chest physically hurt, and it took too long to realize why. Something about his heart didn't feel right, didn't pulse through his body to quite the right beat. His chest was tight, like a vice was wrapped around his ribs, limiting his breathing.

Words flitted through his head— _angina_ , _arrhythmia_ , _myocarditis_ —but the answer was simpler than that.

Ken had gotten so used to feeling Daisuke's heartbeat next to his, even if they weren't synchronized, and now, even lying next to each other in bed, he couldn't feel Daisuke. He was _alone_.

It was early, the sunlight barely streaming through the crack in the curtains, when Ken finally struggled out of the bed, practically tripping over the Digimon and Daisuke's legs in the process, and scrambled out of the room. The door banged against the wall, but he left it, unable to stop until he'd collapsed on the floor of the bathroom and emptied his stomach contents, minimal as they were, into the toilet.

He clung to the bowl, heaving and sobbing until he couldn't breathe, until his eyes couldn't shed any more tears.

He spent a long while curled up on the floor, ignoring the fact that he shouldn't be hogging the bathroom, even on a Saturday morning, and slowly gathered himself together. His face was pallid when he managed a look in the mirror, eyes rimmed red, but there was nothing to do but brush his teeth and splash some water on his face.

When he finally opened the door, Jun was waiting, tapping her foot impatiently. She paused when her eyes landed on him, cocking her head to the side, then her mouth twisted into a wicked grin. "Trouble sleeping? Did you have a _long night_?"

Ken flushed at the tone but ducked around her to avoid answering the question.

Apparently, she'd _heard_ them last night.

Prior to the moment everything had fallen apart.

When Ken slipped into the bedroom, Daisuke was up and already dressed, no longer stripped down to his boxers. Which, as painful as it was to see the difference, was probably for the best.

Daisuke caught his gaze, then immediately turned away. "Uh, hey…good morning."

Ken chewed his lip, his eyes falling to the floor—a reminder he'd never put his shirt on after removing it last night. A glance showed it sitting on the poorly made bed, folded messily, waiting for him. Daisuke must've picked it up.

The Digimon were gone. He must've woken them, woken them all up in his rush to escape. Daisuke, too, was never up this early.

"Good morning," he mumbled before forcing his legs to move. "Wormmon and V-mon…?"

"Breakfast." Daisuke took a deep breath. "Uh, you want anything? For breakfast?"

The thought of eating made Ken nauseous all over again. Besides, he certainly couldn't eat in front of Daisuke right now—not after his ridiculous display with the popsicles last night.

His face colored with shame. "No, I…" He leaned down to reach his bag and started pulling out clothes. There was no way he was putting his pajama top back on. "I'm not hungry."

Daisuke gave a short nod.

"I, uh, I'm going to get dressed now." The clothes were in his hands, but there was no way he could change in front of Daisuke now.

''I'll check on V-mon and Wormmon." Daisuke grabbed his phone off the desk and stalked out of the room, not even looking back as the door closed behind him.

Ken collapsed onto the bed, clutching the clothes to his bare chest.

That entire exchange was so awkward, their words stilted, neither one of them able to look at each other. The fact that Daisuke had gotten dressed the moment he'd left the room, had wanted to hide everything away, to distance himself from everything they'd done last night—from everything they'd _almost_ done.

Everything had fallen apart.

He couldn't breathe. His stomach roiled with nausea again. His vision blurred—he wasn't sure if that were tears or dizziness, but he was grateful he was already sitting.

The one thing he was sure of was that he couldn't stay here. He couldn't subject himself to one more stilted conversation, one more uncomfortable interaction. He couldn't keep avoiding talking about last night, couldn't _not_ avoid talking about last night.

He pulled on a V-neck, then a cardigan to cover as much of himself as possible, and traded his pajama pants for the only pair of slacks he'd brought with him. He needed to cover himself up, to hide the shame that oozed from every pore.

Ken steeled himself with another deep breath and stuffed his pajamas into his bag, stuffed all his things away, then withdrew the jersey he'd meant to give to Daisuke last night—before he'd thrown himself at Daisuke and ruined everything.

In the dining area, Wormmon and V-mon had gotten into some snacks, and Ken watched from the doorway for a moment as Daisuke slid between the Digimon to steal a few chips. His heart stopped as Daisuke leaned close to Wormmon to grab another chip and, in response, Wormmon nuzzled against his arm. Daisuke laughed, an easy smile spreading across his lips, and reciprocated the affection with a gentle stroke along his cheek.

Somehow, that was more painful than if Daisuke had steered clear of Wormmon too. Somehow, it made his heart ache more than it already did.

He swallowed. "Wormmon?"

They turned toward him, and Daisuke's smile fell.

"Yes, Ken-chan?"

He tried to focus just on Wormmon, and not the way Daisuke's eyes zoomed in on the bag slung over his shoulder before he turned away. "Are you…are you ready to go home?"

Wormmon cocked his head, eyes studying him carefully before he finally answered, "I'm ready whenever you are, Ken-chan."

Ken nodded.

But V-mon slumped into his chair. "You don't have to go already," he whined, lips pursing.

"I'm sorry, V-mon," he said, finally stepping into the living space, "but it's… _important_ that we go home now."

Daisuke licked his lips and moved closer to V-mon. "It's okay, bud," he said, rubbing the top of his partner's head, "we'll see them again soon. Besides, Terriermon and Wallace will be back in a little bit, and you guys can play all you want."

V-mon grinned. "Yeah!"

Thankfully, Wormmon hopped down from the table and met him halfway, saving him from drawing too close to Daisuke.

Ken said a short goodbye, directing his eyes more toward V-mon than Daisuke, especially since Daisuke still seemed to have trouble returning his gaze. He slipped his shoes on in the genkan, awkwardly glancing back down the hallway, but Daisuke hadn't followed him like he normally would, hadn't come to walk him out and say another goodbye, hadn't come to give him one last hug before he left.

Ken's chest throbbed painfully as the apartment door slid shut behind him, and he hugged Wormmon tight to try to fill the hole.

*

By the time the front door opened, Daisuke had no idea how long he'd been playing. Or what game it was. He'd just started up the first thing he found, cranked the volume, and collapsed in front of the TV to drown out his thoughts. It was loud enough it'd scared Jun off, which was always a bonus, and too loud to hear anyone coming in until they were right there.

"Daisuke?"

"Daisuke…"

" _Daisuke!_ "

Wallace and… _Miyako_ were standing in his living room, Terriermon and Hawkmon already over near V-mon on the couch.

Daisuke frowned. "What're you doing here?"

Miyako knocked her hands onto her hips, her mouth contorted into an irritated purse. "You won't know if you don't turn that down!"

He turned back to the game but didn't adjust the volume. If he turned it down, he'd be thinking again, and he couldn't let himself think right now. He couldn't let himself think about Ken right now.

But Miyako released a huff and blocked off the TV completely, turning down the volume until Daisuke could practically hear himself breathe. She turned to him with a dark glower. "What is _wrong_ with you today? Didn't you have a good birthday yesterday? Hikari-chan worked very hard to make sure you had fun, and Ken-kun was really—"

" _Don't_ ," Daisuke snapped.

Miyako frowned. "What's wrong?" Her voice was suddenly softer than before. Somehow, that was worse.

"Daisuke…" Wallace almost stepped closer, his usual little smirk gone. "How did last night go?"

Daisuke scowled and finally dropped his controller. It's not like he could see the stupid game _through_ Miyako. "The party was great. The cake was delicious. You were _embarrassing_. What else is new?"

Wallace shrugged. "It was just a joke."

" _Everything_ is a joke to you." His eyes narrowed, his words sharp. "My life isn't something funny for you to laugh at."

"I don't…"

But even Wallace knew better than to finish that sentence.

"What happened with Ken-kun?" Miyako finally asked.

Daisuke glowered, his eyes trained on the floor. "Nothing. Will you guys just stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, where it isn't _wanted_ , and leave it alone?"

"He was…" She hesitated. "When Hikari-chan and I went over there yesterday, he was really…" But she fell silent, unable or unwilling to continue.

He only snorted. "Great. Big help there. I feel so much better."

After too long hesitating, Wallace plopped down on the floor beside him. "Obviously, last night didn't go well. Which definitely explains why Ken isn't here right now when you two would normally still be curled up in bed at this hour. Lovers' quarrel?"

"We're _not_ lovers."

Wallace assessed him slowly, eyes narrowed in concentration. "I was sure something would happen last night, sure Ken would—"

Daisuke scoffed. "Don't worry, he did."

"Then what's the problem?"

Daisuke stared at him, incredulous.

The problem…? What was _the problem_?

Ken was his best friend, that was the problem. Ken meant more to him than anyone or anything else in the world, that was the problem. He was in love with Ken, that was the fucking problem.

He was in love with Ken, and he couldn't just _fuck_ him. He couldn't have meaningless sex with Ken, no matter how much he'd fantasized about sleeping with him. He couldn't make that sort of compromise. He couldn't put himself through that. He couldn't knowingly hurt himself and potentially ruin the most important relationship in his life.

Apparently, Ken didn't feel the same. Apparently, Ken wasn't worried about what would happen to their friendship if they crossed that line.

Daisuke released a shaky breath. "I don't want to talk about Ken."

"Daisuke," Miyako said, stepping closer, worry creasing her face, "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but you need to say something. You can't keep it in. You've never been good at that."

When he looked away, she slipped even closer, dropping into seiza, and laid a hand on his knee. He couldn't meet her gaze.

"What happened last night?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Daisuke chewed his lip, his eyes studying the controller sitting on the floor between his knees, debating. "Ken said he had something he wanted to talk about something, and I wanted to tell him something too—and then he climbed on my lap and practically begged me to fuck him. What else is there to say?"

Miyako pulled her hand away. "But that doesn't make any sense. Why would Ken-kun do that?"

Daisuke huffed. He had a pretty good idea.

He wasn't exactly good at hiding how attracted he was to Ken, and Ken had become increasingly more obvious that he reciprocated the attraction.

But it wasn't _just_ attraction to Daisuke. How could it be with everything they'd shared and been through? When they'd been best friends for so many years? When their very hearts had aligned in the middle of that desert? How could it be when Daisuke had been so sure Ken was his soulmate?

"Just leave it alone," he mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest. " _Please_." He hated how desperate he sounded. 

Miyako sighed and pushed up to stand. "I need to go meet Hikari-chan. I'll see you later," she said and hesitated before taking a few steps toward the door, then a few more while waiting for Hawkmon, then finally padded toward the genkan.

After the door closed, Wallace sat beside him, calm and quiet for once.

Neither spoke; the only sound came from the couch, where V-mon and Terriermon were playing and goofing off. Until Wallace sighed and rose from the floor to put away his overnight bag.

Daisuke turned back to his game, eager to get back to the mindless distraction, but the moment he unpaused, Wallace's voice came from his bedroom.

"Hey…what's this on your bed?"

He frowned.

There shouldn't have been anything on his bed. Ken's pajama top was the only thing there before, and he couldn't imagine Ken forgetting to pack that.

He paused the game again and forced himself to head back into his bedroom, to go back to where Ken had…

Wallace was staring curiously at a neatly folded shirt, a little note written on one of his scrap papers from his desk sitting right on top. Daisuke recognized Ken's perfect handwriting immediately, but he didn't recognize the…soccer jersey beneath it.

"I don't…I don't know," he mumbled.

After a moment, Wallace shrugged and walked out of the room, having already dropped his overnight back with the rest of his stuff.

But Daisuke couldn't stop staring at the jersey with Ken's note sitting on top.

He crossed the room and plucked up the paper, but the way his hand quivered made it hard to read, no matter how short and simple it was:

_Daisuke, I know you've had your eye on this since it came out, so I'm glad I get the chance to be the one to give it to you. Happy birthday. You deserve everything you've ever wanted. I only wish I could give you more_.

He'd been trying to stifle his emotions all morning, trying not to be upset, but there was no avoiding it now. He collapsed onto the edge of his bed, tears stinging his eyes, and tucked the FC Tokyo jersey to his chest and held it tight, as if he could hold Ken like this too, as if it would make everything better.

Because the note…the note sounded like goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might be a little bit because I have to finish a Valentine's fic for the Daiken Valentine's Exchange. After that, I'm going to focus primarily on this fic to try to finish it since I've been working on it for almost a year now.


End file.
